Electricity
by Captain Zombie
Summary: Follow the journey of a girl who can control electricity as she faces the trials of living - and working - for the BPRD. 'T' for language and blood. Do not read if offended easily.
1. Who Am I?

**Hey, it's MMMEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!! This is meh new story. I looked upon the site - and found, like, hardly ANY comic-based BPRD stories. I felt kinda bad - cause I know that BPRD comic fans are kinda sad cause there's none up here - so I WROTE ONE! **

**This is _The Dead,_ featuring my OC, Jink. I plan on doing three: _The Dead, The Black Flame,_ and _The Universal Machine_. If you guys haven't read them yet, go do it - NOW.**

**See you at the end! ~Izzy  
**

* * *

I am not normal.

Looking at me, most would exclaim, "Oh, of course you are, sweetheart! Who ever gave you that idea?"Then they would check out my duds: my black shirt, my black jacket, my black jeans, my fedora, and my Vans with the flaming skulls.

"Well, your a little . . . dark, but you're okay!" Most will usually add.

But they know nothing of my history.

I was born normal. But when I was about five years old, I got struck by lightning. My mom watched. She wasn't amazed that I survived, or the fact that I was able to move afterwords - she was amazed that I got up and threw lightning back into the sky, like I was 'getting back for being hit', as my mom put it.

My mom dumped me on a street corner, with strict instructions not to move - "Someone will be by to pick you up," she told me. My, being naive, believed her, and stayed on the street corner - for three days. I didn't move, I didn't eat - hell, I didn't even try to run. For three solid days.

During which time, my mother's spreading rumors about how I got possessed by Satan or something like that, and how I tried to attack her with my lightning skills. People actually _believed_ her, sadly and soon I was getting unwanted attention.

After about two days, I was getting people left and right who wanted to check out the 'lightning freak'. I didn't care - people were people, and I couldn't stop them if they wanted to stare at me.

During this entire period, I was getting acquainted with my powers. I started small at first, aiming at bugs and rocks. But soon I was able to focus onto people and moving cars. Man, you shoulda seen their faces when I hit 'em!

Well, it was probably ten o'clock at night on the third day, when a black van pulled up. I stared with glassy eyes. Were these the promised people? Could I finally get off of the curb? To my disappointment, it was just another van full of people wanting to check out the freak.

I grew angry, and lashed out. To this day, I'm still not sure what I did. All I know is that by the time I was through with them at least 4 people had to be hospitalized, and their van was completely trashed. Cops came, a fire truck came - I found it completely amusing. I sat in the backseat of the police cruiser, watching the lights flash on the people's faces. They all looked so sad. I wondered why, not really understanding what I had done.

I never noticed him coming to towards the car until the door opened. At first, all I could see was red. I craned my neck to see hs face (Good God he was tall). He looked down at me with a mixture of pity and interest. To my small self, he reminded me of the way a dad would look at their child when they've done something wrong.

I was the first to speak: "Who're you? Are you the people Mommy said was gonna come get me?"

He crouched down to look me in the eye. "When did your mommy say this?" he asked me in a quiet way. His voice was a deep baritone, and seemed to reverberate in the empty car.

"Mommy said three days ago that someone was gonna come get me, and not to move off of the corner. I 'member cause it was Saturday, after cartoons."

He growled, stood, and walked away. I coulda sworn that I caught a glimpse of a tail as he walked away. I didn't think anymore of him.

After what seemed like eternity, I lay down on the seat and fell asleep. I only woke when I felt someone pick me up. I cracked my eyes open irritably: it was the giant red monkey-man.

"Where we goin'?" I managed to slur. "Are we goin' home?"

He shifted me so I was cradled in one arm so he could open what sounded like a car door. "I'm takin' ya home with me," he said. A door slammed, and with an engine roar, we began to move.

"Where's Mommy?" I asked worriedly; I didn't want her to think I was disobeying her by leaving the corner.

"Your mommy had to go away for a while," he explained. "She told me to take care of ya. And . . . that she loves ya."

Yawning, I curled up again and fell back to sleep in his arms.

*************

That was almost eleven years ago. In my time at the BPRD, I've learned new things - more about my powers, about my mom and what she did, and about life in general. I've found a family at the BPRD.

Like Hellboy. He's like the father I never knew. Even though he was seldom home, he always made time to hang out with me, whetherit was playing cards or watchin' a movie. He's been gone for a long time, off fighting whatever it is he's fighting. I hope he comes home soon.

Liz is like the sister I've always wanted. Our powers are so similarly alike, it's eerie. When we're not busy, she never really minds if I hang out with her. She grew up at the BPRD, too. If it weren't for her, I mighta gone insane a while ago.

Then there's Abe. I don't know if he likes me that much. He acts indifferent towards me, despite my efforts to befriend him. I don't know what I've done to make him act like that towards me, but I hope I can fix it - he's a nice guy, and I want to be his friend.

But out of all of them, Roger has got to be my BEST friend. We're always hangin' out together, doin' SOMETHING - even if it's just laying on the floor, staring at the ceiling, listening to music. Screw the world - Roger is all I shall ever need. Even in the face of danger, he's all I'll need.

So I don't know why I don't want Captain Daimio here.

Seriously - I don't know. I accepted Johann when he joined our little family. It's hard to understand him sometimes, but he's a fun guy to be around. I love him to death - he's like the uncle that likes to talk . . . . alot.

Maybe it's because this man doesn't fit into the freak norm.

Or maybe . . . it's because they brought him here to take Hellboy's place.

_

* * *

_**CLIFF-HANGER! Well, not really . . . . yeah . . . . Tell me what you guys think! please? I know i'm not that strong a writer, and I will take ideas to make this story better in any way. I'm going off _The Dead_ TPB, and it's sorta weird writing each scene with my OC, so tell me what I can do to make it better!**

**Love yas!**

**~Izzy  
**


	2. How It Started

**So here I am again! I did a little editing, so this was originally the second half of the first chapter. deal with it.  
**

* * *

It was a beautiful day outside, and I had to spend it inside, getting breifed on the latest frog attack. Some farm house in South Dakota where only the sherif survived. Johann, Liz, and Roger all sat attentively, listening to the agent speak. Me, I was staring at him, spacing off. Trying to remember where the hell I stuck my iPod.

in my haze, I heard the word 'relocate'. "Whoa, hold the phone," I said, "We're moving?"

"Is that where Abe and Kate went?" Roger asked Johann. "Did they already relocate?"

"Don't worry, they'll be back soon," Liz assured us. "They'd better be . . ."

"Alrighty then," I sighed, "Wake me if something big happens, or one of you finds my iPod . . ."

I pushed my hat over my eyes and leaned back in my chair. I wasn't there for two minutes when Mr. Manning flipped my hat up.

"Hello, Mr. Manning," I said cordially, picking my hat up off of the floor. "How're you today?"

"Jink, no matter how cynical you feel today, you need to pay attention to this," Mr. Manning informed me.

"I'm not being cynical, am I?" I asked innocently. "I'm just sayin' how nice a day it is."

"Ha!" Liz scoffed. "Saying that you weren't cynical is like saying Hellboy wasn't stubborn."

"Ha ha ha," I replied dryly, "I'll take that as a compliment . . ."

Manning lowered the screen, and a movie beagan to play. I didn't pay much attention - it was an autopsy. Just thinking about some poor bastard getttin cut up on after he died was enough to make me physically sick.

But one of the body bags began to move.

This caught my attention real fast. I watched as it twitched and shook, until finally a knife poked through and tore open the body bag. A man with his face half tore off looked wildly around.

"Whoa!" I said. "Hello!"

"What the FUCK is going on here, four eyes?" the man snarled, and the film ended.

"Crazy stuff there, Mr. Manning," I finally managed to say.

"What was that all about - was he an early victim of the frogs?" Liz asked.

"No, but we'll get back to him later," Manning said.

"Then why the hell did ya show us the movie?" I asked, holding my stomach. "You KNEW that I hate autopsies, and you didn't feel like WARNIN' a person?"

"You know about our current funding problems," Mr. Manning continued. "I've been trying to expand the BPRD, and to relocate to larger headquarters, but I get the same thing - it's not in the budget."

"Even though these frogs are taking over the world?" Liz asked skeptically. "Great."

"Peachy keen, jellybean{1}. This sucks," I sighed. "And the world is screwed."

"Well, that's not gonna happen," Mr. Manning said. "The alternative is we think more creatively, and on that front, I have some good news."

"Oh my God you found my iPod!" I said excitedly.

"Creative, I think, is another way of saying we will not have more agents," Johann mused.

"No - but we will be moving to Colorado," Mr. Manning concluded. "And no, we have not found your iPod."

"Dammit, where's my iPod!?!?!?" I said angrily.

"Check your jacket pocket," Roger suggested. I dug around and pulled out - low and behold - my iPod, and ten bucks.

"Roger, I love you," I said with a smile, happily putting the buds in my ears.

"Enough," Manning commanded, "There's an old abandoned military research facility there going to waste. Budgetarily speaking, it's ideal."

"I don't understand," Roger said. "What does this have to do with the man in the bag?"

"It was his idea," Manning stated.

"Crap, he's a zombie?!?!" I asked excitedly.

"No," Manning said.

"Oh," I said sullenly, and leaned back in my seat.

A picture of Mr. Zombie-Man appeared on the screen. "His name is Benjamin Daimio," Manning pointed to the picture. "Former Marine captain, former Green Beret, currently working in special ops for the Pentagon. He's had an interest in the BPRD since his . . . incident, and has been working on an informal basis as a consultant. Captain Daimio has special access to classified Pentagon papers. That's were he found out about this old research complex."

"He seems and asset, yes?" Johann asked.

"I'm glad to hear you say that, Johann," Manning said, "Because, as of this morning, Captain Daimio will be joining this task-force as the new field team commander."

"WHAT?!?!?!?!?" Liz exclaimed, jumping up.

"What the hell?!?!" I said, confused. "We're getting a new guy? What about Abe and Kate?"

"Exactly!" Liz said loudly. "Kate and Abe are coming back, you know!"

"Yes, well I heard that before, didn't I?" Manning pointed out. "When Hellboy left."

"He's coming back, too!" I pointed out. "He said so!"

"Yeah, well, I need a career man, to lead this team in the field - someone committed to the military," Manning tried to explain his actions.

"And this is your idea of stability?" Liz shot back. "Bringing in Captain Zombie?!?!"

"I KNEW IT!" I said loudly.

"He's not a zombie!" Manning said firmly. "He just had an accident."

"They don't put you in a body bag if you only had an accident," Liz said, acid lacing her voice. "He was dead."

"Only for three days."

I whirled to face Captain Daimio, in the flesh. I blushed, realizing that he probably heard the ENTIRE conversation. "Uh oh."

"Sorry, Directer," he said, walking into the room, "I know you wanted me to make a formal intro, but I wanted to break the ice ASAP." He turned to us. "I'm Ben Daimio. Not as pretty as I used to be, but looking at you guys, I don't see how that's going to be a problem. Don't want anybody to worry about me changin' things around here - you guys have a system, and it works. We'll stick to it."

"Oh joy," I said dryly.

He turned to Liz. "Captain Zombie?" he asked, half-smiling. "That's pretty funny. Burn Lady, right?"

"Yeah," Liz sighed, a look of annoyance on her face, "But why don't you call me Liz Sherman?"

"Right. Hello, Ms. Sherman," he said. "So you're Johann Kraus."

"Hello, Captain," Johann greeted him with his usually up-attitude-ness.

"And . . . . Roger?" he asked, looking at Roger.

"Hi," Roger replied.

"Now what the hell is that?" Daimio asked.

"What is what?" Roger asked, looking confused.

"What do you mean, 'What is what?'" Daimio asked, and pointed at the piece of wood on Roger's crotch. "That!" He turned to Manning. "I know you guys got a system, but we need to get some pants on this one."

"Hey!" I said defensively. "Leave Roger alone, Zombie Man! He don't need no pants!"

"So you must be Jink, the Lightning Girl," he said, looking at me. "Remember readin' about you in the paper."

"What about it?" I scoffed, standing up to stare him in the eye.

"Heard you fried five different people," he replied offhandedly.

"You wanna be next?" I asked with a growl.

"Was that a threat?"

"Hell no - that was a promise."

It was an old-fashioned stare-down. I wasn't gonna gove in, and neither was he. I could feel the electricity gathering around my hands, and I had the urge to let it loose on Captain Daimio.

A lightbulb burst with a shower of glass.

"Aw, crap!"


	3. The Next Part

**So here is the next chapter! Sorry it took so long to update. to my one LONE REVIEWER, e-cookies and my eternal gratitude. love you! To the REST of you philistines who can read and not review, i'm continuing . . . WHETHER YOU LIKE IT OR NOT!!!!!!!**  
***maniacal laughter***

**Sorry . . . . i didn't take my pills this morning . . .  
**

* * *

I yawned and stretched. "Good _Lord_ that seemed to take _forever,_" I sighed, climbing off of the plane. My red and black skull bag was full to bursting with random junk and my Army-issue duffel bag was full of black clothing. Needless to say, I didn't have much stuff.

"Jink, look what I found on the plane!" Roger came up to me, holding a pin with wings out for me to see. "Wings? On a plane? isn't that funny?"

"Dude, that's AWESOME!" I said, smiling. "That's gonna look so cool pinned to your vest!"

"But . . . it's too thick," he pointed out sadly.

"I KNOW!" I dug into my bag and pulled out one of my nondescript stocking caps. "You can pin it to this!"

He put the pin on the hat, and the hat on his head.

"See?" I said. "You look SO cool right now." I pulled out my other hat - it had the BPRD patch sewn on (it came with that) and an MCR patch (that I sew on). "Now we match!"

"C'mon, let's MOVE it!" Captain Daimio yelled to us. "Hey Roger! What happened to those pants I go to you?"

Roger hurried ahead, but I lagged behind.

"Goddamn sonuvabitch thinks he can boss me around," I muttered angrily as I climbed onto the helicopter.

"What was that?" Liz asked.

"Nothing," I sighed, pulling my heet to my chest and my hat over my eyes, and grabbing my penguin from my bag.

"What is that?" Daimio asked. "Is that a _stuffed penguin?"_

"Got a problem with dat?" I asked tiredly. "Cause it is."

"Why on _earth_ do you have a penguin?" he asked, almost disgusted at the fact I had a stuffed animal.

"I've had it since I was seven," I snarled. " . . . Hellboy gave it to me for Christmas."

"You don't wanna question the penguin, Captain," Liz warned him. "She might hurt you . . . seriously."

I grinned to myself. She'd learned that about nine years back, when while mocking my penguin, the toaster mysteriously sparked so bad her sleeve caught on fire.

"So, Liz," he turned his attention to her, "Set me straight if I'm wrong, but you don't seem to happy. I can call you Liz, right?"

"_Happy_ doesn't have much to do with it, Captain," Liz crossed her arms. "Being effective as a team, that's what matters here."

"How about you just tell me what's on your mind," he suggested.

"We know almost nothing about you," Liz stated. "And this place, this new headquarters. You found it, have all the data on it, but you haven't said a _word_ to us."

"Uh-huh, that's a point," Daimo admitted. "See, right after the second world war . . ."

_Oh God, he's telling a story,_ I thought, and stared out the window. I closed my eyes for just a second. I must've dosed off, cause the next thing I knew Roger was shaking my shoudler.

"You gotta see this!" he was saying. I sat up and looked out the window.

"Is that it?" he asked Daimio. "That big place - is that it?"

"Yep," Daimio replied confidantly. "Welcome to your new home."

"That place is HUGE!" I said. "Can you imagine all the great hiding places in there?"

"You're it first!" Roger said quickly.

"Fine," I sighed. "You can hide first. Hope you - and I - don't get lost."

"Do these two always act like this?" I heard Daimio ask from behind me.

"Oh yes," Johann assured him. "They act like children sometimes, but they get the job done."

"Oh _God_," he muttered.

"Welcome to Hell!" I said cheerily.

*************

"Oh . . . my . . . _God_," I groaned, looking down at myself. "I can't beleive Mr. Zombie Man has me in a freaking uniform."

"He just wants us to look like a team," Roger said.

"I'm in even _more_ shock that he made you don pants," I sighed, looking over at Roger. "Do you justice, they don't."

We were going into the FREAKING HUGE room with all sorts of computers and electronic crap.

"I am gonna have some SERIOUSE FUN here," I grinned.

"Uh oh," Roger muttered. "You have that look again . . . "

"Hey, _nice,_" Daimio looking at Liz and Johann. "Makes you look more like a team."

"Yeah, I have to admit, I've seen worse," Liz said, looking down at herself.

"Glad we agree on something - sort of," Daimio admitted. "Now where's the girl and the goofball?"

"Oh," I interrupted, "You mean _Jink_ and _Roger?_ Well, I'm _right here!"_

"Hi," Roger said, "I have pants on."

Daimio gave Roger one glance and glared, "That's even worse. Let's forget about the pants."

"Okay," Roger shrugged.

"Okay, you have really TICKED OFF my LAST NERVE!" I snarled.

"Whoa!" Liz grabbed my arm before I could inflict damage on Daimio.

"What?" I asked innocently. "I was only gonna give him a friendly pat on the back . . . or face . . . whatever is closer . . ."

"Leave Ben Daimio alone," she warned in a low voice. "We don't need him breathing down our necks. And if you piss him off, he can do all he wants to make your life a living hell."

"B-But, look how he's treating _Roger!"_ I protested. "Captain Zombie is not only crossin' the line, he set it on fire, _pissed_ on it, then _danced_ on the soggy ashes!"

"Go cool down, Jink," Liz sighed, letting go of my arm. "We don't need any lightbulbs bursting in here."

I walked away, grumbling under my breath.

*************

I lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling. It had to have been midnight or so when I finally kicked back the covers and got out of bed. I looked down at the yellow pajamas.

"Damn zombie even made me change my pj's!" I sighed dejectedly. I opened my new dresser and pulled out a random band shirt and exchanged it for the one I had on. "_That's_ better."

Just as I sat down on my bed, I heard this noise. Like . . . the sound of people running . . . .

So I open up my door, to find Liz and Roger running right past it. I run after them trying to keep up.

"Wassup, guys?" I asked lightly. "Someone forget to tell me about the midnight run y'all was plannin'?"

"We didn't plan this," Liz panted. "Johann kept saying that he could hear something-,"

"Do you hear that?" I interrupted. There was this incesant tapping sound - it was annoying.

"Yeah, like that," Liz continued.

"No - can you hear it?" I asked again.

We kept running to catch up to Johann, who had stopped in front of the service elevator. He had keyed something into the pad, and the doors opened. We jumped in just before the doors closed.

"Johann, where are we going?" Roger asked in a worried tone.

"How did you know the access code to this elevator?" Liz asked.

"Is it okay to be sorta freaked out yet?" I asked. It was the weirdest sensation - as we went lower down, i could feel my electricity loose more and more. By the time the elevator doors opened, I was struggling to keep myself from sparking. I stayed behind when they followed Johann to another part of the wall.

Everything was staring to get really fuzzy. I felt physically sick. I fell to my knees, holding my stomach, body doubled in pain. I concentrated on taking deep breaths, letting my mind clear of anything else. I really must've spaced off, because the next thing I knew, Liz was looking me straight in the face.

"Can you walk?" she asked quickly.

I didn't say anything. I just stood, albeit shakily, and got into the damn service elevater. I didn't want to talk about what happened. I leaned onto the wall, the feelings of unease dissapating as we went up. Not only was it freaky, it was plain _scary._

And I'm never gonna admit that.

*************

"_Fourth_ sub-basement?" Daimio asked in surprise. "I've seen the flourplans to the joint myself, and there _is_ no fourth sub-basement."

"Yes there is," Roger said simply.

"Come down and see for yourself," Liz said, getting frustrated.

"Let me rephrase that - _We are not going 'exploring'!"_ Daimio exclaimed.

I did nothing but fiddle with the volume of my iPod.

He whirled on me. "Don't you got anything you wanna add?" he half-growled.

I looked up at him with a nuetral face. "Whatever is down there is messing with my system," I said cooly. "I almost lost it. I felt physically ill. I wanna know what's down there so I can rip it limb from limb. But _I_ ain't goin'."

"Wow - that seems somewhat _normal_ coming from you," commented Liz.

"Watch it, Liz," I warned. "All I'm sayin' is no way in _hell_ am I goin' back down there. But you guys are _totally_ welcome to."

"Fine," Daimio spat. "I'll get the damn drill."

*************

"How's it goin' guys?" i asked through the headset. "By the sight through the camera, it looks like it did last time - moldy and decrepid."

"It is," Roger agreed. "And I can feel the electricity in the air."

"See?" I pointed out. "That's why I'm not down there. I'd blow and people would die."

"Not die," he pointed out. "They'd probably be paralyzed for life, that's all . . . "

"Thanks for that," I said dryly. "Makes me feel _so_ much batter . . ."

What was I doing, you ask? Why, I'm coordinating the mission! Yeah!

. . . . no I'm not. I'm observing, and pretending that I'm actually there when I'm not. What? _I'm_ not going down there when I can loose it so easily. I'm sorry, but I value myself (and Roger) a little too much to do that.

"Wait - what's that!" I said excitedly. "Roger, turn to the left and look at the yellow/tan box thing!"

"Why?" he asked as he picked up the brown handle. "It feels kinda heavy . . . ."

"Do you know what that _is_?" I asked, incredulous. "That's the Deluxe 100 Edition Portable Manuel Typewriter! Grab it for me!"

"Don't you have a laptop?" Roger asked slowly.

"Have you ever typed on one of those bad boys?" I asked. "It works like a _dream_. You would _love_ it."

"DO YOU SEE THAT?"

* * *

**THAT was a cliffhanger! Those who've read _The Dead, _you know what's going down. As for the rest of you . . . YOU HAVE TO WAIT FOR ME!!!! R+R, puh-leeeeze? **

**I'm not crazy! I'm eccentric! . . . nope, wait, i'm crazy. all the more reason to review - I have access to a computer! Never underestimate the power of crazy and a computer!!!!**

**~Izzy  
**


	4. Great Just GREAT

**Merry Christmas, guys! Here's another chapter. I think the next may be the last, but that's cool, right? if I do a sequel? Thanks to Zipper Whippersnapper for using Jink in her story - GO READ IT!!!! NOW!!!  
**

* * *

The man was old and somewhat decrepit. He clutched a folder full of paper to his chest like it was a life presserver - and maybe it _was_, well, at least to him. He had thin wheite hair, thick glasses, and was pretty short, of you asked me. But I had a height complex, so I probably wasn't the person to ask.

This was who Roger, Johann, and Daimio brought back from the fourth sub-basement.

Roger had dropped the typewriter (such a shame - it looked pretty cool) when someone had seen the man, and so now he was here. How the hell he managed to stay alive down there was a mystery to me.

Even if I had to stay in the room, I stood off in the corner, trying to put as much distance between him and me. There was something _wrong_ with that man - he was jacking up my system, and it pissed me off. And he _knew _it, too. You could tell by the smug grin he gave me when no one was looking.

And I couldn't tell these guys about it, because they would chalk me up as being paranoid.

Crap.

"Hey, pal," Daimio looked down at him trying to be friendly, "How you doing?"

I almost snorted, but manged to cover it up with a cough.

"Look, maybe you can help us out here - think you're up to telling us what the hell happened down there?"

I looked at the door - they were gathering information, and I was gonna get out of there ASAP. Mr. Basement Man wasn't gonna get any satisfaction out of _me_.

Roger walked through the door, ruining my plan. "You're probably wasting your time," Roger said, "So far, all he's spoken is German."

"So get Johann up here," Daimio said. "Let _him_ talk to the scruffy bastard."

"He did," I said, tense, "But he says the guy's babbling nonsense. Look, can I _go_? Please?"

"Why?" Daimio asked. "He give you the creeps or somethin'?"

"Partially, hell yes," I snapped. "He's doing something to my system, and _he's enjoying every minute of it. _Besides, the guy's probably hit Crazyville being down in that hell hole."

He narrowed his eyes at me, and I scowled at him. Classic staring contest.

"Fine, yo can go," Daimio sighed, "I coulda guessed he was nuts. Medics are on their way. They can handle it from here."

"Excuse me to say, I am not insane," the man said in plain English.

"I'm outta here," I growled, making my exit as fast as possible.

* * *

It happened later, when I was in my room. I had retreated there after the whole "Man-From-Basement-Giving-Jink-The-Creeps" thing, and I was enjoying myself, listening to music.

Ah, music. The only thing that kept me from going insane in my days here. Trust me, when you're on the go as much as we are, it pays to invest in something like an iPod and a laptop. But I digress.

So I was in my room, when I thought I saw something flit past my room. Part of me was kinda freaked, and wanted to go and ignore it. But a bigger part was all "ADVENTURE! LET'S GO!" and was hyped up on imaginary Pixie Stix and stuff, so I grabbed my iPod and followed the flitting shadow.

I stuck to the shadows, trying to get a better view of my little shadow-maker. When I finally got a clear view, I can't say that I was surprised.

It was Mr. Basement Man!

He had found someone's keys (I patted my pocket to make sure mine were still there - yep, still there . . ) and was walking around the BPRD unattended. Now, protocol states that newbies be escorted EVERYWHERE until they get there bearings, but I doubt this was a case for it.

I followed him as he walked up to a storage room, unlocked it, and pulled out a spear-looking thing. My eyes widened in surprise. He wrapped himself in a large coat, and off he was again.

Shaking my head, I resumed following him.

His path wove through the halls at a steadying pace. It was almost _too_ easy to follow this guy. In the distance, I could hear shouts and screams, but I paid it no attention - Mr. Basement Man was my main focus.

We hit the service elevator, and this is when agents decided to make their presence known.

"Hey!" Agent Johnson shouted. "Hey, man, is that elevator working?"

Yeah, Agent Johnson wasn't the sharpest knife in the drawer, if you catch my drift. Meaning, the guy was a dumbass.

Mr. Basement looked back at Johnsons and Thomas (another agent not known fro being a freaking Einstein), and as the elevator doors opened, both of them began to scream as thousands of bugs poured from the shaft.

I had a pretty good view as they were overtaken by white bugs. Where was I? Oh, I was hanging from the ceiling. Just another perk of being able to control electricity. I basically made myself a negative and the ceiling a positive, and as they say, opposites attract. There's a whole science-y way to explain it, but I never claimed to be THAT smart.

"Great," I muttered as the bugs worked their way through the halls. "_Please_ don't let them find me . . ."

After the bugs had dissipated, I slid myself across to the wall and _slowly_ slid down. Once I was on the ground, I started off to find Daimio, Liz, Johann, and Roger.

"Y'know," I muttered to myself as I ran, "Maybe _next_ time, they'll _listen_ to me. But I hope there _is_ no next time . ."

* * *

I found them all by some HUGE piece of machinery.

"Hey, uh, guys?" I said, trying to get their attention. "Weirdo Mr. Basement Man? Well, he's back in the basement, and is currently unleashing some bug army."

"_Great_," Daimio said sarcastically, glaring at Liz.

"You act like this is _my_ fault!" she snapped.

He only responded by smashing a bug on the wall.

I had had enough of this. "HEY!" I said loudly. I walked up to him, and to everyone's surprise (except mine), I thumped him on the forehead. "In case you didn't know, _there's a weird guy in the basement trying to kill us!_ This is _not_ the time to act like some bratty kid and hold a grudge! Now let's _go_, numbskull! We got bigger fish to fry!!"

I turned on my heel, and cranked up the tunes. Ah, Three Days Grace. Nothing better to kill people to.

* * *

As I said, Mr. Basement Man was in the basement. Wow, talk about redundant. He had some electric pack on his back, and was holding the spear I saw him take out of storage.

"So many guns," he mused. "What have _I_ done?"

"What's that you got there, Nazi-boy?" Daimio said quietly, cutting to the chase. We had about twenty guys, all armed to the teeth with guns, bombs, and flashlights. And then there was me, in black and holding nothing, headphones snaking through my hair.

"It is Longinus's spear - the Spear of Dynasty, you would call it," the guy responded conversationally.

"Wait a minute. No!" someone in the back said in a hushed whisper. "It _can't_ be!"

"Relax, we got him covered," Daimio said quickly, and turned his attention to the guy with a spear. "Spear of Longinus, eh? Looks like a piece of rebar to me."

"Yes," Mr. Basement Man agreed, "It does."

I didn't even flinch when almost eight thousand volts erupted from the tip of the spear. Only Roger and I were left standing.

"Too bad, asshole," I marched up to him, "I'm _lightning_ proof."

And I showed him by grabbing his face and frying him to kingdom come.

His charred body fell to the ground, and people were beginning to get back up.

"Yep," I sighed, heading back for the elevator, "You had best listen to me next time."

"Great, look!" Daimio shouted, pointing to something behind me. "You went and pissed him off!"

I turned to see . .

THE BIGGEST bug I've EVER seen. And it did _indeed_ look pissed.

"_Oh_ FUCK!" I shouted. "WHY WON'T YOU JUST LET ME WIN, YA SORE LOSING BASTARD?!?!?!?"

* * *

**Cliffhanger! yes, this one has a bit MORE foul language in it, but don't you think it fits though? Some huge pissed-off bug coming after ya? Uh-huh, thought so. So merry Christmas, happy holidays, and all that jazz. Oh, and listen to _Animal I Have Become_ by Three Days Grace while reading this - it fits good with the action. **

**Happy CHRISTMA-HANNA-KWANZA-KA! ~Izzy  
**


	5. The Dead

**Goodness, people, only on chapter five? Screw making a part 2 and 3 - i'm making this a nice longg story, at least until the end. Which, I suppose, is how it's supposed to happen. If anyone thinks up a good title, tell me PLEASE. Enjoy the chapter, sorry it's short, I'll make up for it in the next chapter.  
**

* * *

I looked up at the thing, mouth agape. "Too damn big," I muttered, stepping backwards and trying to take it all in. "WAY too damn big."

It reminded me of a centipede, almost . . . with wings. Oh, and it still had the spear. That badass mother-fucker was after me now.

Daimio pulled his gun out. "DAMMIT!" he shouted. "One of these _has_ to work!"

Roger, pulling Liz up, replied, "Guntar said that all the guns would be broken." I swear, if looks could kill, Daimio probably would've murdered Roger in a violent messy way.

"Um . . . . I did't do it?" I said slowly. Daimio shot me a deadly look. "So, you guys want me to fry him again or something?"

"Go ahead and try it," Daimio motioned with a malfunctioning gun.

"You might want to get out of here," I said slowly. Roger and Daimio grabbed as many as they could and took off.

I looked up at the monster, and I could feel it looking at me. I rolled my shoulders, cracked my fingers, and took a steady stance.

Now, what happened next was probably the BIGGEST surge I've ever managed to produced. And at the same time . . . someone turned on the sprinkler system. Now, THAT was enough to fry the bugger!

When it was over, I fell to my knees. Producing that much power in one go - not to mention all the crap I've been doing all day - was enough to make me conk out.

*************

So yeah, Roger told me what had happened - Johann had turned on the sprinklers, being possessed by dead scientists and all, and was generally okay. After I had fried the bitch, it had turned back into Guntar (that was his name, I think . . .), and Daimio shot him a couple times just to be sure that he was dead - and was gonna STAY that way. He's okay too.

We only lost a half dozen agents, which was pretty good for the thing we were up against. When I commented on this, Johann had replied, "I do no think that losing any agents is good, no matter what we are fighting." So I had my guilt trip for the day.

Like, right after that (this is sorta funny), I had been sitting in the cafeteria, feeling sorta . . . weird. I turned to Roger, who had joined me for coffee, and remarked, "I feel . . . weird. Like seriously _really_ weird. No one messed with me too much in my sleep, did they?"

Okay, I have EXTREME issues with people messing with me in my sleep. Stems from the fear of zombies eating me in my sleep (I don't mind them attacking, but why when I'm asleep? They should face me like a man! Or . . . zombie, I guess . . .). And if people mess with me too much in my sleep, it messes with me for a bit. And if certain people touch me at ALL, I get messed up ALL DAY.

"Yeah," Roger said slowly, "Captain Daimio carried you up here after you fainted in the basement. Didn't he tell you?"

I jumped up then, and did the "All-Over-Shudder" Dance (which was basically a small shuffle, me trying to rub off the nasty feeling). While I was doing this (and being grossed out that DAIMIO had carried me to my room and tucked me into bed), Roger was having a laughing fit that made him fall out of his chair.

And so was anyone else in the room.

*************

I wish I could say things went back to normal - erm, as normal as it gets down here in the BPRD. Roger's starting to hang out with Ben Daimio a little too much for my taste. He's taken up smoking, and is getting farther and farther from his old self.

He's my best and closest friend - what's a girl to do? Beat him until he sees sense? Brainwash him? All I know, is if he starts to treat me the way _he_ does, we're gonna have a scrap on our hands.

* * *

**so yeah, sorry it's short, i promise to make up for it in the next chapter. R+R, puh-leez?**


	6. Surprises

**Okay, so this is kinda a filler chapter, showing the dynamics of the group and how some of them interact with each other. You'll just have to read it and find out!  
**

* * *

I laid in my room, rocking to music. I was super focussed on the music, I wasn't really paying attention to anyting else. I _may_ have been dancing around, but I'm not too sure. I knew for a fact that I was singing because when Roger came in and unplugged my radio, I was still going.

"OH _HAAAAAAAAVE_ YOU HEARD THE NEWS THAT YOU'RE _DE-EAD?_ NO ONE EVER HAD MUCH NICE TO DAY, I THINK THEY NEVER LIKED YOU ANYWAY, OH _TAAAAAKE_ ME FROM THE HOSPITAL _BE-EEED!_ WOULDN'T IT BE GRAND TO TAKE A PISTOL BY THE HAND, OH WOULDN'T IT BE GREAT IF _WE. WERE. DEAD?_"

Yeah, talk about embarrassing.

"Jink!" Roger pulled on my hand and practically dragged me out of my room. "You gotta come quick! There's a monster on the loose!"

"Holy crap, _really_?" I shouted, running to keep up with him. "What's it look like?"

"Well, it's big-,"

"Okay . . ."

"And I mean _REALLY_ big."

"Okay . . . anything else?"

"It's red. Really, really red."

"Like a lobster?"

"Exactly."

"Think it's Lobster Johnson? You guys keep telling me how he appears all the time . . ."

"No, it's not Lobster Johnson. The monster's got a tail."

"Okay, anything else I need to know? Does it shoot fire? Carry heavy artillary? Give out free puppies?"

"Yeah, it's got a gun."

"WHO GAVE THE MONSTER A GUN?!?!?!?!?"

"Not me . . . . "

"Hold on . . . " I paused in my running, and wracked my brain. "Don't I know someone who's big, red, and carries a gun?"

"Noooooooo," Roger said slowly, hiding a small smile.

"Dammit, tell me what's going on!" I said fiercly, trying to glare at him and think at the same time. There was _something_ I was forgetting, I _knew_ it . . . .

"OH MY GOD THE _DENTIST _IS HERE!" I took off running th other way, leaving Roger in the dust.

I CANNOT stand the dentist they send here for me. FOR ME. No one _else_ has to see Dr. Floss. _No,_ just _meeee!_ She's too _nice_. I swear, the last time I saw her (six months ago, I believe), I threw every curse at her I knew (and some I made up) for TEN MINUTES STRAIGHT, and she just _stared_ at me, and then was all, "Okay, let's see how well you've been brushing since I saw you last!"

And the worst part is that they hook me up to some machine that drains the excess of my powers so I can't even SHOCK the bitch.

So yeah, I ran and hid in the best place possible: XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX.

Yeah, while the hell I should I tell any of YOU people? You'll just rat me out so I can go get my gums scraped!

So yeah, I hid for a good couple hours until SOMEONE found me. (Yeah, thanks ALOT guys. Thanks for ratting me out! Bitch!)

Well, it was Daimio who found me, so I guess it's no one's fault. I was hiding in his closet, so it may have been MY fault, for all it's worth, but I digress.

I had been hiding amongst his shoes (DAMN the man had a lot of shoes!) when the closet door opened to reveal a VERY surprised and somewhat annoyed Daimio.

"You have _five seconds_ to get out of my closet," he threatened slowly.

I was out in one.

"Why the _hell_ are you hiding in my closet?" Good, he was keeping his voice low - no one knows where I am yet.

"Roger's trying to trick me to see the dentist," I whispered back.

He - get this - _laughed _at me. Looked like I was the most hilarious thing since YouTube, the way he was laughing at me.

"What?" I asked. "I know for a fact that YOU get out of your appointment with that dental butcher every chance you get!"

"Jink, it ain't the _dentist_ down there," he laughed. "It's a surprise for ya. Now _go! _And stay out of my room!"

I was out of there faster than a blink.

* * *

So yeah, I made my way to the cafeteria, albeit carefully and quietly, and found this BIGGEST surprise anyone could've gave me.

"OMIGOD! HELLBOY!" I *glomped* him, clinging to him like a monkey. "Dude! I haven't seen you in FOREVER!"

"I know," he shrugged, pulling me off his coat and pulling me into a bone-crushing hug. "And I've missed ya, Lightning Bug."

YES, that's his nickname for me, and if ANY of you say anything about it, I will KILL you with extreme prejudice.

"Man, we had like, this BIG HUGE bug thing, and it was all, like, "RAWR!!!!!"," he lets go of me and I'm off with a rambling story, acting like I'm hyped-up on Pixie-Stix. "And people are all like, 'AAAAUUHHHHH!" and I'm all like "ZZZZZZZAAAAAAAPPPPP!" and I got it! Like a little bug-zapper thing!"

"Oh, wow!" Hellboy said. Man, I loved it when he came back - he always loved hearing my stories.

"Hey, I got ya a present for your birthday," he said, and pulled out a plain box.

Squealing with delight, I grabbed the box and opened it.

HOLY CRAP THE MAN GOT ME A NEW iPOD!

It was all black with this white design the when you looked at it just right, made a grinning skull. And the best part: it had almost FIVE HUNDRED gigs of memory!

"Dude! I LOVE it!" I shouted, and nearly jumped him again. "Y'know, I thought that my surprise was that the _dentist_ had come . . ."

At this, Hellboy burst out laughing, and I felt that all was right with the world.

* * *

**Okay, so the song is Dead! by MCR, Hellboy plays a bigger role later, and I, too, hide from the dentist. This shows just how much of a friend that Jink has in Hellboy, and, like, other stuff . . . . . um, yeah.**

**happy new years!  
**


	7. Sewers

**OMG ANOTHER CHAPTER ON NEW YEAR'S! Well, i'm getting in what I can now - starting Tuesday, it's back to the grind of five different honors and AP classes. So enjoy while you can - there may not always be TWO updates in a day. Happy reading!  
**

* * *

I'm in the sewers.

So yeah, _why_ was I in the sewers? It was probably the WORST place to be. It smelled, there were rats everywhere, and the disgusting slime was leaking into my shoes. Do you know how even _remotely_ nasty that is? I was going to have to take a three hour shower to get rid of the slime, and an even longer one to get rid of the smell. THESE WERE MY GOOD SHOES, DAMMIT!

We're in the _wonderful_ sewers because there's a nest of frogs living down here. I've seen their wall doodles, and I can tell they're getting smarter - and tougher to kill.

This is probably only the sixth or seventh frog mission I've been on. Manning usually has me stay back, saying it's too small for my talents, but we all know I'm the back-up agent that handles things when everyone else is fighting the frogs.

That's how I know that I don't like ghosts, werewolves, vampires, witches, swamps, sewers, France, Romania, Argentina, museums, zombies, or the residents of Philidelphia.

So yeah, we're - as in, me, Roger, Johann, Daimio, Liz, and about twenty other nameless agents - treking through God-knows-what, trying to find a frog nest.

"So, there's a two nuns and a rabbi," I began, trying to tell Roger this joke I heard.

"Hush - we've gotta find that nest," he said quickly, and ditched me to walk with Daimio.

I gave him a glare - so much for _that_ joke! It was great!

All thoughts of jokes were forgotten in the eruption of gunfire. Now, since I'm still technically a minor, I'm not allowed to carry a weapon, so they gave me a spray bottle and told me to get stuff wet and shock it.

And if you think I'm kidding, I'm not - it's an 'official' BPRD spray bottle, complete with logo. God, you'd think that people in this business would be more focused on weapon manufacturing, not spray bottles.

And in this environment, it's hard to do too much - there's too many people in my way. I try to shock something, I get someone complaining that I shocked them, or something like that. And that's when I tell them they need to stop being such sissies and suck it up.

So I'm shocking the frogs (bottle tossed aside), when Daimio goes down. Me, I'm covered in frogs, and I mean _covered_. Go ahead - let your mind wander to the gutter. Trust me, I felt like I was going to need therapy for the next several months. And then there's Roger - the new machine-gun toting, cigar smoking, cursing Roger - who goes to save Daimio, despite the fact that he was basically fine and I was being assaulted/molested by frogs (eeeeeewwwww . . . all-over-shudder).

_Screw this,_ I thought, and sent out a shock wave equivalent to that of forty or so police tasers. The frogs drop off of me, and I stagger out of this mountain, still doing the All-Over-Shudder Dance.

"Yeah, thanks for helping me, people," shocking a frog until it was totally fried.

"Jiii-iink!" a nameless agent whined. "You _got_ me with that one!"

"Oh, sorry!" I called back, sending one his way. I smiled when I heard him yelp.

I walked up to Roger and gave him a solid punch to his arm. "Thanks for saving me, _friend_," I said dryly. "Glad to know we're on the same page."

"Hey, don't get mad at Roger for saving me," Daimio tried to defend him.

"Do you know how _violated_ I felt by the frogs climbing all over me?" I said darkly. "How wrong it feels to have those _things_ all over? There were like, ten! You got attacked by _one!_"

"For your information, there were five on me, and only, well, yeah, ten sounds about right," Daimio shrugged, and got up. "All right," he said, "The blueprints show that the entry way to the lower levels is through here. Let's lock and load."

He lead the way, and I fell into step with Liz and Johann.

"So what do you think about Roger?" Liz asked.

"He's beginning to piss me off," I commented lightly.

"Well, he was a true blank slate, especially since Hellboy left," Johann remarked. "We should not be surprised that Captain Daimio left the biggest impression on him. He's a strong leader and easy to mimic."

"Uh-huh, that's what worries me," Liz commented.

"All I know is that if Roger starts calling me 'kid' like Daimio does, he's gonna be missing a finger or two," I said dryly.

Out of nowhere, frogs burst through the metel floor, grabbing me.

"AAAAIIIIIIIIIHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!" I shrieked, and on instinct, I shocked the group with all I had. By the time I hit the floor, all the frogs were ash and bone.

"Hey guys!" I called up. "I found a shortcut."

We continued down the tunnel, until we reached what seemed to be engorged sick frogs.

"Are they sick or something?" an agent asked.

I reached out to poke it. "It feels all squishy," I informed them.

"Wait!" Liz said. "Don't touch it!"

Her warning came just as I kicked it, and it burst all over me.

"!" I shouted and danced around, trying to brush it off.

"It's a fucking nest," Daimio hissed while I was dancing. "We need to get another squad in here."

"No need, Captain," Liz said, starting to catch fire, "I've seen all the evidence I've needed."

We hightailed it out of there faster than a cop at a doughnut shop. We could feel the heat of Liz's flames through the floor.

"God, this is _gross,_" I muttered horrified, "Slime in my shoes and covered in _frog baby juice._ God, I'm gonna need a shower . . ."

"Stop whining," Daimio said angrily.

"Yeah, Jink, it's only slime," Roger added. "Stop being such a wuss."

The man is going to pay.

* * *

**HA HA HA HA HA! All-Over-Shudder moments!  
Well, I gots to go - meh dah is getting mad that I'm 'hibernating' in my room, so i have to go spend time with him. Happy New Year's, and go read _BPRD: The Insectoid Man _by Zipper Whippersnapper. Man, that story is GOOD. And if you do NOT read it, I will come after you.**

***grabs 2x4* I am NOT kidding. **

**R+R please! Or I won't update! Remember, reviews = love!**


	8. Roger

**Righty-O, first post of the new year! Yeah! I'm all bored (and tired of doing history homework) so here be another chapter. Now, here's the deal: you need to go read _BPRD: The Insectoid Man. _My friend Zipper and I have agreed to let each other use each other's characters. so our sories SORTA FIT TOGETHER. GO NOW!!!!!!  
**

* * *

So here I am back at the BPRD, dripping frog guts and sewer slime, and the only thing on my mind is _**'SHOWER!!!'**_. I make my way to my room, finding out the hard way that I'm leaving footprints. The easy way: I see 'em. The hard way: people slip on it and yell. Well, let's just say that there were a LOT of screams.

I was kinda giggling at that. I was trying not to drip, but I couldn't help it, so i was getting my kicks in.

I was walking down the hallway trying to make it to my room, when Gregory comes out of an adjoining hallway and walks with me.

Now, to a new guy, Gregory might seem a little different and kinda weird. He's basically a six and a half foot cockroach who can walk on his back feet. But Greg's cool. We've been through a lot of stuff together - ask him about the demon in the Alps. Man saved my life.

"Wassup, Greg!" I said happily. "I'd hug ya, but I'm covered in crap and slime and MORE crap."

He pulled out on of his note cards and wrote, "I see that. You left a VERY incriminating trail behind you."

"You see all the people falling?" I laughed. "I love it! The only good thing from all this crappy . . .crap . . . all over my body . . "

He wrote, "Nice description. And have fun taking a two hour shower."

"BE that way," I grumbled. "And I expect to see you in our regular room in an hour, ready to lose at poker."

Another card, one that I made for him: "YOU'RE ON!", complete with evil smiley face.

"Good," I nodded, and made the turn off to my room, waving bye to Greg.

As I opened the door to my room, I heaved a sigh of relief - my floor was cement and tile, no carpet for me to muck up with my nasty shoes. I piked my way slowly through a mess of papers, books, and clothing vowing silently to clean and scrub my room til it shone. It was only about six steps to the bathroom door, but going as slow s I was . . . it was AGONIZING.

I threw my dirty clothes down the laundry shoot and started the water for a nice, warm shower.

Of course, I didn't expect the hot water to give out in the middle of my shower. I jumped out and grabbed a towel, screaming all the while: "WHAT THE FUCKING HELL?!?!? WHY THE HELL DID THE FUCKING HOT WATER STOP?!?!?! I'M STILL COVERED IN CRAP!" Yeah, I wasn't expecting it, and now I was freezing cold.

I hurried up and put clothes on, trying to get warm. I used a towel to wipe up the slime from the floor, and tossed that down the laundry shoot. Man, I feel bad for whoever does the laundry. Today's gotta be a bitch.

Trying to finish making good on my vow to keep my room clean, I gather all the dirty clothes and and shove 'em down the shoot, also praying for forgivness from the laundry person. I gather up the trash and dump it in the can next to my door. All the books got put in the shelves, and everything else got pushed under the bed.

Tah-dah! Clean room! I congratulated myself on a job well done, and I made my way to the newly-dubbed 'Poker Room'.

* * *

"Okay, I meet your sugar cookies, and raise you two chocolate chip," I replied, pushing in said cookies.

Greg gave a few clicks, and laid down his hand. Straight.

Laughing, I laid my hand down. "Royal flush," I grinned. "I win."

Greg gave an agitated chitter and took out a card to scribble: "You cheat."

"Nuh-uh."

Another scribble: "Then how did you win?"

"Good luck, I suppose."

"Smartass." He didn't have to write this one out - he had it from a previous game.

"There is no need to get angry just 'cause I won, dude. I don't accuse you of cheating everytime _you_ win." I folded my arms. "Sore loser."

He folded his arms (ALL of them) and glared as much as he could at me.

"You know," I said conversationally, "I rock the staring contest."

Greg pulled out another card that read, "Where's Roger?"

I shrugged. "He's being a complete ass, trying to mimic Captain Zombie the way he is."

Greg scribbled on the back of the card: "He's still your friend."

"Not if he's gonna treat me the way Daimio does," I sighed. "Roger used to be sweet and kind - he was like my _brother_. Seeing him change in such a way . . . it's upsetting." I smiled a little bit. "Remember when Daimio walked in on us playing strip poker? Me halfway undressed with you and Roger*?"

Greg scribbled and clicked. "You know how embarrassing that was?"

"Yeah, imagine what was going on in _his_ mind," I laughed. "A sixteen-year-old stripping in front of a centuries-old homunculus and a college-student-turned-roach with pennies on the table. The man couldn't look me straight in the face for _weeks._" I stopped smiling. "I had to _tell_ Roger why Daimio was mad - he didn't get it. I had to explain to him that it was inappropriate is most cases. He was so child-like."

Scribble, scribble, scribble: "It's true. Don't worry - he'll be back to his old self soon enough, playing poker with the rest of us."

"You're right," I sighed. "C'mon, let's get some Pixie Stix - I can hear your stomach growling, and I don't want to have to fight you for the last of the Dr. Pepper."

* * *

I paced the hallway, muttering to myself. It was around midnight, and I was tired, grouchy, and ready to blow.

"Damn zombie lettin' Roger go out on his own," I grumbled. "Damn zombie for ruinin' Roger . . . "

Greg walked up to me in my pacing and held up a card: "He's going to be fine. Trust me."

"I can't _help_ but worry," I sighed, still pacing. "He's been gone for _hours_. Manning said he shoulda been back by now."

In the distance, I could see a chopper getting ready to land. I breathed a sigh of relief - this _had_ to be Roger.

As it landed, me and Greg got closer so we could see everyone as they came out. There were considerably less than what left, but that happened with this job. I knew Rogr was going to be the last one out - it was a thing he did, making sure everyone got out before he left to make sure that no one got left behind.

He did that after I got left behind in Mexico a few years back. Long story.

And I was right, in a way. Roger _was_ the last one out.

At least, his body was.

He was dead.

I fell.

* * *

**Poor Roger . . . *tear***

***Chapter 5 of _BPRD: The Insectoid Man_. Funny stuff, dude. **

**So long, good day and night,m don't let the zombies bite.**

**~Izzy  
**


	9. Acid Tears

**Okay, just for the record, I didn't kill Roger off - MIKE MIGNOLA did. Check it out - _The Black Flame_ TPB, Chapter 2+3. I'm sorry, I wish there was a way to save Roger, but . . . yeah, I'm sorry. You know, I cried when I found out Roger was dead? Yeah, sissy me. Well, here be another chapter, so be happy.  
**

* * *

I was in the dark. I could sense I was moviing (somehow) but I wasn't really that awake until I heard people talking right next to my ear.

"No, Greg, I got her - you don't need to carry her. She just fainted is all."

I _knew_ that voice. Daimio - and he was _carrying_ me, bridal-style.

I barely cracked open my eyes, and keeping my face neutral, I said, "Whoa, Benny-boy, put me down. I can walk."

"Not with the way you cracked your head on the floor," he replied.

Man, do you know how weird it is to be carried around by Daimio? Uhg, I wanted to shudder, but I felt so _tired_.

"Seriously, dude, let me walk," I moaned. "Pleeeeease? I'll be your best friend!"

"Best _fiend_ is more like it," Daimio snorted.

"What happened?" I groaned, and tried to fanagle out of his arms. "I gotta go back - Roger isn't here yet."

Daimio gave me the oddest look and stopped walking. "You must've hit your head harder than I thought," he thought aloud and continued walking.

"Daimio, I am NOT fucking kidding - PUT me DOWN!" I said loudly, thrashing. He tried to fight me at first, but he put me down eventually.

"_Thank_ you," I said, brushing myself off. "Now, is Roger here yet, or what?"

Daimio and Greg (who had been following him) exchanged glances. I felt my stomach clench - this _couldn't_ be good.

"I think you should tell her," Daimio said to Greg.

"Tell me what?" I asked.

Greg motioned at Daimio, and scribbled on a card, and only let Daimio see it.

"Fine," he sighed, and turned to me.

"What?" I asked.

"Jink, sweetheart," Daimio began, and tried to put a hand on my shoulder.

I pulled back. "Since when do you call me 'sweetheart'?" I snapped, eying him suspiciously. "Cut the crap - _what won't you tell me?!?!?!?"_

"Jink, Roger's _dead_," he said quietly.

"No," I said quickly. "Impossible. He's not dead. _He's not dead! STOP LYING! ROGER'S NOT DEAD!_"

Greg took out a card: "It's true," the card read sadly.

"I don't **believe** you!" I said loudly, and took off running.

I could hear them running after me, calling my name, but I didn't care. Roger had to be somewhere, and I could prove to them once and for all that Roger WASN'T dead.

I ran into the helicopter bay, and my heart soared when I saw Roger's helicopter. He **was** here!

"ROOOOOOOOOOOOOOGER!" I shouted, "Where'd ya GO?!?! C'mon, man, let's go play some POKER!"

I ran to see if Roger was on the other side of the copter, and what i saw made me stop in my tracks.

It was Roger.

His legs were missing. One and a half arms were gone. Half his face was blown off.

He was dead.

My

Roger

was

dead.

I fell to my knees, still staring at the stretcher that held Roger's body. My body was numb - all I could think was, _My Roger . . . my poor, poor Roger . . ._

I could feel someone behind me. I didn't turn to look.

"I just talked to him this morning," I said numbly. "I asked him if he wanted to watch a movie - I think it was _Stay Alive_ - and he said he didn't have time for such childish things as TV, and that he had an appointment." I started getting angry. "_No one_ told me Roger was going to lead a mission. _No one_ went _with_ him."

"Jink, no one feels as bad about this as I do . . . " Daimio.

"No you don't," I said slowly.

"What?"

"No, _you don't_," my voice cracked, and I realized I was crying. "Roger wasn't your best friend. You didn't grow up with him. You weren't the one Roger came back for when everyone else left you in Mexico with zombies overnight. You didn't love Roger like your brother."

As my tears fell, they hissed as they wore through the metal floors. Ah, electric powers, acid tears . . . just another freak, I guess.

By now, I was on a roll. "He was there when I had nightmares. He was there for me when Hellby left. He was there when I got attacked by all those zombies in Mexico - he helped me recover from that. _He's_ the reason I came to talk to people again. _He_ was the one who showed me the lighter side of life. And now . . . _he's gone._"

I ran again. I knew were I was heading - there was a door that led outside. I needed air, and to be away from people.

The door was easy to find. Sadly, it was an emergency exit, so sirens went off as I shoved the door open and ran. But I didn't care. I was outside.

I ran. I stumbled, but kept going. I fell in snow, and wearing only a long-sleeve t-shirt and jeans and my skater shoes, I didn't feel the cold. I was running, tears streaming down my face, until I just couldn't run anymore.

I collapsed into the snow and _howled_ with sorrow. I thought my heart was ripping in two. I cried and cried. The tears rolled off me face and scorched the earth and melted snow. All I knew was that life had no meaning anymore.

Roger was gone.

* * *

**Okay, Roger will reapear in the story later on (in the next chapter or so), and you have no idea how much I hate that Roger had to die, but it's the only way for the story to progress. So go ahead and flame me - i will NOT change the story. So there XP.**

**Well, another chapter is on the way. Love to you guys, and keep up the writing/reviewing. PLEASE review. I'll give you cookies! please?**

**~Izzy of the Pants  
**


	10. Gregory's Tale

**Okay, so this one is a bit longer than my normal chapters, but I know how infuriated we readers get when we get wee mini chapters, so think of this as me fulfilling your reading needs. All info in here about Greg is totally certifiable by Zipper, so no flamin me aboot it, n'kay?  
**

* * *

I don't know how long I was in the snow. I don't know who found me, or carried me inside. I don't know who whiped away my burning tears and changed my cold clothes to my oversized off-the-shoulder band shirt and Linkin Park pants (please, God, let it have been Liz or Kate . . . ). I don't know how long I was asleep, or who left me the can of Dr. Pepper and the BLT wrapped in plastic. All I could gather when I woke up was that Roger was gone.

I was still in shock. Roger was too lively to be dead. Just last week, him and me took some four-wheelers out in the mountains and rode around. We even went so far as to create ramps to jump off of. He was probably the best trick rider I'll ever meet.

I sat up slowly, feeling extremely cold. This was so unnatural - with my powers, I always was warm, and ran a toasty temp of around 103 degrees. I shivered, like I had the flu. I turned to my bed table, and round the pop and sandwich. Upon seeing the food, I could feel my stomach growl.

I grabbed and unwrapped the sandwich and ate it, more to keep up the motion than actual hunger. It all tasted like cardboard to me. I popped the can, and sipped it slowly.

You know, Dr. Pepper tastes different when you're sad. You can feel it pass the lump in your throat that's nothing but a silent sob, and as you drink, it feels like you're drowning your sorrow in carbonated soda. I drank the rest greedily, wanting to feel sad when it was empty, but feeling nothing.

Wanting to fill the silence, I grabbed my iPod. Damn - it was 2 AM. I set it to random and let the iPod do its work.

_Hey Lucy, I remember your name__  
I put a dozen roses on your grave today  
I'm in the grass on my knees, wipe the leaves away . . ._

I skipped to the next song.

_I never said I'd lie and wait forever.__  
If I died, we'd be together.__  
I can't always just forget her.  
But she could try . . ._

I couldn't believe it. I didn't try to - I switched the song.

_Supposed that I miss you.  
__Supposed that I care.__  
And suppose that I spent  
__all my nights running scared.  
And suppose that I was never there._

Click.

_I hate feeling like this.  
__So tired of trying to fight this.  
__I'm asleep and all I dream of  
is waking to you._

With a snarl, I flipped the iPod off, set it aside, and stared at the ceiling.

Crap.

My ceiling was littered with photos. Whenever I could get my hands on a camera, I was taking pictures of us all around the BPRD. There was one of Johann when he wasn't looking and I drew on his suit with a Sharpie to give him a handlebar mustache and a monocle. He actually thought it was kinda funny, but I had to scrub his suit clean anyway.

There was one of me, Roger, and Hellboy on my last birthday, about seven months ago. We were around my cake - shaped like a lightning bolt (how'd they **do** that?) - and somehow, they got me into this ridicules party hat. Everyone was laughing. Happy.

There were so many pictures of Roger in here - my room was a giant memory.

And it was all too much.

I grabbed Jareth (yes, I named my penguin after the Goblin King. I can't help it - who _could_ resist David Bowie in tights?) and shuffled out of my room, careful to close the door quietly after me. I padded down the hallways, trying to be as quiet as I could, until I came to the kitchen.

You'd think that even at 2 AM in a government facility, people would be sleeping. Yet, there were two or three people milling around, drinking tea and coffee. As I walked into the kitchen, I kept seeing people give me looks of pity and sadness. I ignored them and opened the fridge, and pulled out a can of Dr. Pepper and a can of Coke.

I was going to go see Greg.

As I turned to leave, one of the agents walked up to me. It must've been a new guy - he still had all his fingers, and had a face that really was too nice for this place - because he came right up to me and put an arm around my shoulders.

"Yeah, I'm sorry to hear about Rupert," he said, smiling.

"Roger," I said, acid lacing my voice. "His _name_ is Roger."

"_Was_," the man said. "Well, I was just gonna say," he lent in closer so he was whispering in my ear, "If you need someone to talk to - you know, a shoulder to cry on, comfort sex, that sorta thing - then _I_ am your _man_."

I looked at him - nay, _glared_ at him - and set my stuff down on the counter by the fridge.

"Let me respond to that in the following way," I replied, and within seconds I had him in a full-Nelson.

"You're an asshole, ya know that?" I said conversationally. "I'm sixteen, jackass, and I'm guessing you've got a death wish, right?"

The guy only responded by screaming and trying to get people's attention. Agents must not've liked the guy, cause they watched with great interest.

"Want me to let you go?" I said sweetly.

"_Please!"_ he begged.

"Say uncle!"

"UNCLE!"

"Say 'I'm a sissy pedophile'!"

"I'M A SISSY PEDOPHILE!"

You know, I was having _fun_ hurting him. Maybe I was getting anger out. All I knew was that I didn't let him go until I felt one of his shoulders go 'pop!'.

I let him drop to the floor, and he began to cry and yell at me about his should.

"You _hurt_ me!" he shouted.

"Deal with it," I said coldly. "And next time you pull that kinda stunt . . . Boy, I swear to _God_ that I'll kick you ass so hard, you'll have foot-in-mouth disease after an hour."

I grabbed my sodas and Jareth and made my exit.

* * *

"Greg?" I called out tentatively, knocking on his door quietly. "Are you in there?"

I had to be quiet - in this part of the base, people were sleeping, and the LAST thing I wanted to do was wake someone up.

There was a clicking and a scuttling, and the door opened, Greg holding out a card that read, "Jink? What're you doing? Isn't it, like, three AM?"

"Is it okay if I stay here tonight?" I asked slowly. "I . . . I don't want to be alone in my room. It's too big." I held out the can of Coke. "I brought a peace offering."

After a moment of thought, he wrote on the same card: "Come on in."

Greg's room was sparse (and clean) compared to mine. He had a bed, containing a nest of blankets, and a few photos taped to the wall. I tried not to look at the ones containing Roger.

"What's up?" he asked, pulling out one of his newly laminated cards.

"It's . . . it's just . . . " I sighed, careful not to shed any tears, "It hurts. It really does. And I don't know who else to turn to." I collapsed onto the floor, clutching Jareth the penguin to my chest like I was seven years old again. "I miss him." Crap! My eyes were beginning to water. I wiped away the tears, careful to to let them fall on the floor or my clothes. "And now . . . when I went into the mess hall to get the pop . . . I just popped some dude's arm out of its socket."

Greg gave a surprised chitter, and pulled out a card (another that I had made): "What the hell? Why?"

So I relayed my story of waking up, the depressing music, the foray into the kitchen, and the altercation betwixt me and the new agent. By the time my story was done, Greg had sat down on his bed back in his little nest o' blankets, watching me.

He pulled out a card and wrote: "You're not the only one who's lost someone here."

"Oh yeah?" I said dryly. "Who'd _you_ lose?"

Another note card: "My girlfriend."

I looked up at him, face falling, heart dropping, and realizing how selfish I was being by thinking only of myself. I crawled closer to him, so I was sitting on the floor in front of him. "What happened?" I asked.

The story took up the front and back of a note card. "We were engaged in college. Our plans were to graduate together, get married and move to Canado to start a family. But then the incident happened, and we broke up. We haven't spoken since."

"What was her name?" I asked quietly.

New note card: "Anelisa."

"I'm sorry," I said quietly. "I didn't know-,"

"Don't be," the new card read. "It's the past. I just wanted to let you know you aren't alone." He flipped over the card and wrote, "You know how much of a little kid you looked like when I opened the door? Baggy PJ's, stuffed penguin, but what got me were the eyes - so full f sadness and despair."

"Well aren't you a poet!" I said in a joking way, smirking.

"Just get some sleep," his card read, and he threw me a blanket and a pillow.

"Goodnight, Greg," I said quietly. "And thank you . . . for everything."

* * *

**Okay, so in order, the songs are LUCY by Skillet, THE GHOST OF YOU by My Chemical Romance, SUPPOSE by Secondhand Serenade, and COMATOSE by Skillet (again). I was reading _Labyrinth _fanfiction when I thought of naming the penguin Jareth. **

**And as for the guy trying to get into Jink's pants, he's based on a true person. Earlier this year, a classmate of mine, Wilson Villi, died. The day after, everyone was devestated. Then there was this guy who walked around, offering 'comfort sex' and kept getting Wilson's name wrong (called him William, Liam, and Vincent). So that was my inspiration for that. **

**Happy reading, and PLEASE go read Zipper's story - it's GOOD!!!!!! You'll LOVE it!!!! And review, please! pwease?**

**p.s. - and NO, there is no pairings in this fic. I just want to point this out NOW, before people yell at me or something. Everyone's just FRIENDS.  
**


	11. Idea

**Woot! Another chapter! OMG - it has Abe and Johann in it! huzzah for them!  
**

* * *

Morning came all too soon for me, and I sullenly walked back to my room. I didn't want to, but Greg convinced me to at least change my clothes before Daimio caught me walking around in my pajamas - it's the man's BIGGEST pet peeve, seeing one of us agents walking around in pajama pants. Says they're counter-productive.

So I go back to my room, and I run into the person I'd least expect.

Abe.

Since he got back from his little trip to Maine or Connecticut (SOMEWHERE in New England), he's been all mopey and secluded. So I assumed he just didn't want to talk to people, and stopped pounding on his door and yelling at him to stop hiding.

Now, he was pounding on Liz's door, which was across and down the hall from mine. I had to pass him to get to my room. Great. Just _great_. My day couldn't GET any worse.

Oh, wait! It did! Johann just turned the corner, and I know for a fact that I couldn't be missed.

Crap.

"Liz? Are you in there?" Abe just pounded away, and I tried to sneak past him. He turned to me (crap!) and asked, "Have you seen Liz?"

I shook my head no - I wasn't really ready to talk to too many people this early in the morning. No sugar, four hours of sleep - I was the epitome of grouchy sadness, if there _is_ such a thing.

Johann had heard the question and said, "She has movied out of her room. She now sleeps in Roger's room."

"She didn't tell _me_," Abe said pointedly.

I chose this moment to make my escape.

Of course, Johann noticed, and just HAD to ask. "Jink, why are you out here in that _ridicules_ shirt?"

I said nothing, but walked back to my room.

"Why won't you say anything?" Abe called to me.

Still nothing from me.

"Is this because of Roger?" I heard Johann ask Abe.

In confirmation, Abe replied, "Those two were more like brother and sister - family. She acted like this when Hellboy left. Don't worry - she'll be her normal self in no time."

_That's where you wrong, _I thought numbly.

* * *

I lay in my bed, staring at the ceiling. I didn't want to move. I just let the stereo play.

_They're gonna clean up your looks  
__with all the lies in the books__  
to make a citizen out of you.__  
Because they sleep with a gun,  
__to keep an eye on you son,__  
so they an watch all the things you do.__  
Because the drugs never work!__  
They're gonna give you a smirk!__  
Cause they have methods of keeping you clean!  
__They're gonna rip up your heads__  
your aspirations to shreds  
another cog in the murder machine._

_It's so true,_ I thought numbly.

_They say, oh,__  
Teenagers scare  
__the living shit out of me!  
__They could care less__  
as long as someone will bleed.__  
So tuck in your clothes  
__Or strike a violent pose__Maybe they'll leave you alone  
But not me._

_The boys and girls in the clique  
__the awful names that they stick.__  
You're never gonna fit in much kid.__  
But if you're troubled and hurt  
__what you got under your shirt  
__will make them pay for the things  
that they did!_

I never got that line - _What you got under your shirt will make them pay for the things that they did. _Do they mean a gun? Nope, don't got one. Something else? Knowing that Gerard Way is kinda crazy, there's probably a plethora of different ways for that to be interpreted.

Unconsciously, I flipped the song.

_Take away the sensation inside.  
Bittersweet migraine in my head  
It's like a throbbing toothache of the mind.  
I can't take this feeling anymore._

_Drain the pressure from the swelling.  
This sensation's overwhelming.  
Give me a long kiss goodnight.  
Tell me everything will be alright  
Tell me I won't feel a thing.  
Give me Novocaine._

_I wish_, I scoffed.

_Out of body and out of mind.  
Kiss the demons out of my dreams.  
I get the funny feeling and that's alright.  
Jimmy says it's better than here._

Drain the pressure from the swelling.  
This sensation's overwhelming.  
Give me a long kiss goodnight.  
Tell me everything will be alright  
Tell me I won't feel a thing.  
_Give me Novocaine._

_Drain the pressure from the swelling.  
This sensation's overwhelming.  
Give me a long kiss goodnight.  
Tell me everything will be alright  
Tell me, Jimmy, I won't feel a thing.  
Give me Novocaine.  
_

Sighing, I flipped over to face the wall. It's like the grief took all my energy. I didn't want to do anything. All I wanted right now was for the pain to end.

_And if your heart stops beating,__  
I'll be here wondering,  
__did you get what you deserve -__  
the ending of your life?  
__And if you get to Heaven  
__I'll be here waiting babe,__  
did you get what you deserve -__  
the end?_

_And if your life won't wait,  
then your heart can't take this.  
Have you heard the news that you're dead?  
No one ever had much nice to say  
I think they never liked you anyway  
Oh take me from the hospital bed.  
Wouldn't it be grand - it ain't exactly what you planned  
- but wouldn't it be great if we were dead?_

I was hit by an idea. An awful idea. A wonderful, awful, horrible, idea-to-end-all-ideas idea.

And I knew what I was going to do.

* * *

**Ooooh, a plan? Sounds devious. If you can take a hint, you already know what she's going to do. Evil, ain't it? Okay, song one is TEENAGERS by My Chemical Romance, song two is GIVE ME NOVOCAINE by Green Day, and song three is DEAD! by My Chemical Romance (again).**

**REVIEW, DAMMIT! I WILL COME AFTER YOU! I KID YOU NOT! PLEASE? **

**and no, i am not bashing on Gerard Way here - he's probably one of the greatest band-fronts-people out there. Yes, I'm an MCR fanatic. Please, no bashing on me about it **- **you'll hurt my feelings and I won't update anymore. (of course I will, but I'll do it every OTHER day, to torture you.)**

**~Izzy of the Pants  
**


	12. Cemetery Drive

**Okay, so we know what's going to happen here, right? Okay? No one be upset over the course this chapter's going to take.  
**

* * *

No one ever thought that suicide was a good idea. No, they said it was selfish. Stupid.

They didn't feel this pain.

How my heat feels torn - ripped in half.

How empty my life suddenly feels.

How _hard_ it feels to go on.

I wanted it to end, and there was only one way out.

The hard part, though, was _how_ to do it.

No guns - too messy, and I couldn't get my hands on any without looking suspiscious.

Pills? Same problem - I can't get any.

Cyanide? Quick, but painful.

Hanging? Slow and painful. A masochist, I'm not.

Knife? Stabbing myself? Also slow and painful.

But not if done in the right way.

One slit, right across the bigger veins in the wrist. Death by bloodloss within minutes.

Simple.

Easy.

Messy.

But not if I did it over the bathroom sink.

I just pray the right people find my body.

The only thing left was to get down and do it.

* * *

_Dear guys._

_I'm sorry. I wish it didn't come to this. I almost wish I didn't have to do this. But the pain is too much. I pray that one day you all have the heart to forgive me. I can't stand the _pain_. It's eating me from the inside out. But please, don't get angry. It's the last thing I want to do._

_Gregory . . . god, dude, I'm sorry. The only regret I have is leaving you behind. Of all the crap you have to take in life, and now I just added to it. You're the only one I have left, and the only one I can trust. Take care of my iPod. Don't let Zombie-Man touch it. I love you, man._

_To Abe, and Liz, and Johann, you guys are probably the closet thing to a family I'll ever have. Take care of each other._

_To Captain Ben Daimio, don't blame yourself. I know you do. For a zombie, you're not that bad. And that's a compliment coming from me. A few years back, our copter left me behind in Mexico after a rutine spook check, and all these zombies started popping up. I tried to fight it off at first, but it got too much, and I hid in a locked bathroom until morning, when Roger had came back and found me. That's why I didn't really care for you at first. But I guess we're cool now._

_To Directer Manning: FUCK YOU. It's YOUR fault Roger died. I hope you burn in hell, jackass. Maybe I'll see ya there._

_Guys, I'm sorry if this hurts, but _please_ understand . . . I just can't take it anymore._

_Love you wall._

_Jink._

_p.s. Someone's gotta tell Hellboy_

* * *

_This night,  
walk the dead  
in a solitary style  
and crash the  
cemetery gates  
in the dress your husband hates._

_Way down.  
Mark the grave,  
where a searchlight finds us  
drinking by the mosoleum door.  
And they found you on  
the bathroom floor!_

I was at my bathroom sink. I started at myself in the mirror. My eyes seemed dark and glazed over. My gaze seemed bruising. My skin was paler than normal. I was in my usual black, and barefoot. My pocket knife sat on the edge, seeming to stare at me.

The stage was set.

I picked up the knife carefully, and slid out the seraded blade I chose that would be perfect for the act.

Almost over.

_Back home, off the run,  
singing songs that make you  
slit your wrists  
it isn't that much fun  
staring down a loaded gun.  
_

_So I won't stop dying  
- won't stop lying -  
if you want,  
I'll keep on crying  
Did you get what you deserved?  
Is this what you'll always want me for?_

Just as I put the knife to my skin . . . . .

. . . . someone knocked on my door.

"Jink?" it was Abe. "Are you there? It's me and Liz and Gregory. We came to talk to you. Hellboy wants to come back for . . for Roger's funeral."

I was beginning to smile - I had done it. Blood was pouring out, into the sink, just like I planned.

"Don't come in!" I laughed. "I'm naked!"

"Jink?" Liz. "Are you okay? You sound different."

"'Taking's just a waste of breath'," I quoted, "'And living's just a waste of death . . .* '." Another cut. More blood.

There was a a scuffle as someone pounded on my door and tried to open it.

"Jink! OPEN THE GODDAMN DOOR!" Ah, Daimio - he had such a way with words.

But it was too late - I had lost too much blood. Just as the door opened, I fell into the dark cloud that had promised me release.

* * *

**if you people are unclear, JINK IS DYING NOW. Please, no one get upset - she'll be okay. She has an epiphany, and all is well. Jeez, pissy much?**

**The song is CEMETERY DRIVE by MCR. And the quote comes from GET BUSY LIVING OR GET BUSY DYING by Fall Out Boy.**

**Sorry about the suicide, guys, but that's how it was wrote. Blame the voices, the sugar, and the music - they fueled the story. **

**~Izzy of the Pants**

**p.s. - REVIEW, DAMMIT!  
**


	13. All The Memories

**Okay, so to recap: Roger is dead, and Jink just committed suicide. This all starts off with flashbacks. So be prepared.  
**_

* * *

A smaller, younger Jink hangs back, holding her stuffed penguin, as she watches this new person she had dubbed Roger walk up to the still body that is - was - Liz Sherman._

_"Hellboy, did Roger hurt Liz?" she asks quietly. "Why she sleepin'?"_

_"Roger's gonna fix it," Hellboy promised, glaring at the homunculus. _

_'Roger' put his hands on Liz and released the fire that she had givin him, causing her death. _

_Liz shot up as Roger fell to the floor._

_"Whoa!" was all she could really get out._

_But Jink was more focused on the fallen Roger._

_"Roger!" she called out. "Come back! NO!"_

_She put her hand to the small metal hole in Roger's chest and poured in enough electricity to blow lightb ulbs and ruin the hospital's machines._

_Roger sat up, and looked down at her._

_"YEAH!" she squealed and jumped on him, hanging from his neck. "You're back!"_

_"I am," he said, sounding surprised._

_"Promise you won't leave again?" she asked, sounding scared that he would disappear right from under her nose._

_"Promise," he agreed, and pried her off of him so he could stand._

_"Wanna play Go Fish?" she asked excitedly._

_"I don't know how," he replied._

_"Don't worry," she said, grabbing his hand with her ridiculously small one, "I'll teach you."_

_

* * *

_

_Roger walked through the small village. There was evidence of zombies, all right. He couldn't belive that they left Jink behind. You could see that she tried to fight them off - burns littered the ground and sides of buildings. But there was no sign of her._

_"Jink?" he called out. "Jink, are you out there?"_

_He didn't want to linger - he didn't know how many zombies were left. But he had to find her, and if the situation called for it, at least bring her body home. She'd want that._

_"Jink?" he called out again. he approached a public washroom and listened to the door. If he wasn't mistaken, he could distinctly hear the sound of heavy breathing. The doors were _that_ thin._

_He opened the door to poke his head in, and heard a startled cry. _

_"PLEASE!" Someone was hidden in a stall, and Roger could see her curled up behind the toilet, "JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!"_

_"Jink?" Roger said slowly._

_There was a pause, and the girl replied, "R-Roger?" _

_She got up slowly, and opened the stall door. It _was_ Jink, but her clothes were torn, her body was covered in scratches. Her left foot was twisted in the wrong direction, and he didn't need a degree to see that it was broken. Worst of all were eyes - haunted, like the eyes of the people that come back from war, having seen too much._

_She hopped up to him, trying not to step on her hurt foot, freely crying. "Oh Roger!" she said, wrapping her arms around him, "There were so many and I tried to fight them off but they kept coming at me and one grabbed my foot and it snapped and I was so scared!"_

_"It's okay," he said comfortingly, patting her back as she cried. "I'm here to take you home."_

_"Why did you all leave?" she sobbed. "Why did you leave without me?"_

_"Blame Manning," Roger suggested. "He was the one who insisted we leave."_

_"Asshole," she spat, making Roger chuckle._

_"C'mon," he picked her up so she didn't have to try and walk on her busted foot. "We're going home."_

_

* * *

_

_"ROGER! __JINK!"__ Manning shouted through the BPRD. "WHERE ARE YOU?!?!?!?"_

_Roger and Jink sat in the air ducts, trying not to break out laughing._

_"I never knew he could jump so high!" Roger whispered._

_"Wonder what would happen if we stuck super glue to his toupee?" Jink giggled. "C'mon, Partner-In-Crime, let's find some more stuff to super glue to Manning."_

_

* * *

_

_Jink sat straight up in bed, looking dazed. When she realized that she wasn't in the hell hole that was zombie-infested Mexico, she started shaking and sobbing. The acidic tears burned holes in her nightshirt, and eventually the shag rug as she got out of bed. She left her room, and walked down the hall, trying not to burn the carpet with her tears._

_When she got to the room she was looking for, she knocked on the door quietly. There was a shuffling and a _clunk_, and Jink knew that Roger was looking at her through the peep-hole on his door._

_The door creaked as he opened it. "Jink?" he asked. "What's wrong? It's midnight."_

_"I had another nightmare," she mumbled, looking downcast as she wiped another tear off her face. Roger let her in without another word._

_He went to his closet and pulled out the sleeping bag Jink used when she came to his room. He set it out on the floor, and watched as Jink climbed inside. _

_"Goodnight," he said. Even as she slid into the sleeping bag, he could see her eyes drooping._

_"Goodnight, Roger," she slurred as her eyes slid closed. "Thank you."_

_

* * *

_

_Roger found Jink up on the roof, knees pulled up to her chest, arms wrapped around her legs, chin resting on her knees._

_"Why'd he leave?" she asked sadly. "He didn't even say good-bye."_

_Roger sat down next to her. "Maybe it was _really_ urgent, and he had to leave," he suggested. _

_"But he could have at least said good-bye," she whispered, eyes shining with unshed tears. "Left a note, called, done _something_ instead of leaving in the middle of the night."_

_"He always does that," Roger replied. "I thought you'd be used to it by now."_

_"One can't get used to Hellboy leaving," Jink sighed. "And this time, he said that he_ quit_. He's _never_ coming back."_

_"We're all going to miss him," Roger said._

_"Yeah, but it's _different_ for me," Jink shot back. "He's the parental figure I never had. He's the one that brought me back to the BPRD after my mom all but abandoned. He gave me Jareth the penguin."_

_"He'll be back," Roger promised. "Even if we have to _drag_ him back."_

_Jink giggled. "I guess," she said, staring at the sunset. _

_

* * *

_

I was watching my memories from a bird's eye view. Frankly, it was kinda trippy, seeing my younger self. All the crap I went through with Roger. Some of the good moments, some of the bad. But all of them reminded me of why I loved him. He was my brother.

As the last flashback faded, I tried to get my bearings. I was in white, instead of my trademark black. A tunic-like shirt, and baggy pants made out of flannel or cotten, like my baggy pajama pants. No hat, no shoes. You could clearly see the marks on my wrists from my suicide.

Oh, and I was floating.

Great - now I was floating in space. I waved my hands around, trying to figure out what was making me float.

"Hello?" I called out. My voice echoed and reverberated. But no answer. "Anyone out there?"

On an impulse, I tried my electricity. I got a spark, but I couldn't do anything.

Crap - my powers didn't work. I was a sitting duck.

All around me, a background was materializing. Foresty, with a trail that led to a gazebo.

"Hello?" I called out again. "What new hell _is_ this?"

"You shouldn't be hear, Jink."

I KNEW THAT VOICE! I raced down the trail to the little gazebo, and nearly cried tears of joy when I saw who it was.

"Roger!" I said happily. I ran up to him and hugged him. "God, man, I _missed_ you!"

"I missed you too," he said, hugging me, but then pushing me away. "But you shouldn't be hear - you're not dead."

"Yeah I am," I scoffed. "I'm as dead as a doornail. Pushing up daisies. I bought the damn farm. I'm _long gone_."

"No, you're not," Roger objected. "You're alive - but barely. You shouldn't be here."

"But I miss you!" I protested. "It _hurts_ to be without you!"

"Did you ever think of how much the others hurt if _you_ died?" Roger shot back.

I said nothing. I collapsed to my knees, and felt myself go numb.

"It was too hard," I whispered. "There was _so much pain_. So much that _this,_" I showed him the cuts on my wrists, "Felt like _nothing_."

"It would've dissapated," Roger pointed out. "You would've been okay."

"FYI, I'M NOT OKAY!" I shouted. "I'M NOT O-FUCKING-KAY*! I WILL _NEVER_ BE!"

"You will be," Roger reached out and hugged me again. "You're tough. We both know it."

"We both know it's nothing but a mask," I whispered, eyes beginning to tear up. "We both know I'm nothing but an insecure child."

"You know better than that," Roger said. "And you need to get going."

"_No!"_ I said, holding him tighter. "_No! I don't wanna live!"_

And for the first time, my tears didn't burn him.

The world was fading, and I was getting blinded by the bright light. I squinted, and tried to figure out what it was.

Oh.

* * *

I opened my eyes, and immediately closed them again.

_Do _all_ hospital-like places have to be bright white?_ I thought acidly.

"Jink?"

* * *

**OMG she's alive! Yea! Okay, so I was listening to some interesting music that really just went with the story:**

**RIGHT HERE and FROM UNDERNEATH by Hawk Nelson,**

**HELENA by My Chemical Romance**

**KRISTY, ARE YOU DOING OKAY? by The Offspring**

**ALL THE MEMORIES by The Classic Crime (where the title came from)**

**and EARTHQUAKE by The Used**

**So listen to this music while you read. Oh, and the *=took this from I'M NOT OKAY (I PROMISE) by My Chemical Romance.**

**Happy reading (and listening)!**

**~Izzy of the Pants  
**


	14. Wake

**Woo! Another chapter! You know, this is probably the longest-running story I have, other than my mini drabbles for Skulduggery Pleasant. Hopefully, this goes on well. HAPPY READING!  
**

* * *

"Jink?"

I refused to open my eyes. _No, no, no, no, no, no. HELL no,_ I thought, squeezing my eyes shut tighter. _I am NOT here._

"Jink?" whoever was speaking reached out for my hand. "Are you awake? Please? _Please_ be awake!"

"Jink, if you don't wake up, I'm stealing your iPod." God, I knew THAT voice.

"Benjamin Daimio, if you so much as even TOUCH my iPod," I threatened quietly, "I swear to whatever god or goddess you believe in that I'll whip your ass so hard you'll be sleeping standing up for a month."

"Yep, she's awake," he assured whoever else was in the room.

Asshole.

"Jink?" I heard Liz ask. "You need to get up. We know you're awake. We want to talk to you."

I snapped my eyes open and glared. "Screw talking," I snarled. "_Leave me alone._"

"No," Liz snapped, glaring back. "We're gonna talk. _Why the hell would you try something as stupid as that?!?!?"_

I said nothing.

"Don't you have anything you want to say about this?" Abe asked, looking worried (oh, wow - I got Abe _worried_. Will wonders ever cease?).

"'All I learned was I'm/ No good at suicide*'," I quoted quietly.

"Where'd that come from?" Liz snapped.

"Poem," I said staring down the hospital-white bed sheets. I switched my gaze to my hands. Gauze was wrapped around both my wrists, one having an IV needle poking just below the edge of it. I began to unwrap it, careful of the IV, but hands stopped me

"You don't wanna see," Daimio said softly.

HOLY CRAP - _BEN DAIMIO_ IS BEING _NICE_ TO ME? I'm dead - that's that only way that could happen.

"But I do," I replied softly, continuing to unwrap the gauze. One, two slices, with three stitches in each one. The edges looked ragged and oozed pus. Gross.

I unwrapped the other one - I cut BOTH my wrists? Man, was _I_ out of it! Two cuts, seven stitches between the two.

Thirteen in all.

"Man, I suck at _life_, I suck at _dying_ . . . what the hell am I supposed to _do?_" I scoffed.

I looked up at all the people in my room - Liz and Abe, who were clearly upset with me, Daimio, whom I really didn't know what to think about . . . and Greg.

"Are you gonna yell at me for doing this too?" I asked him.

He wrote on one of his note cards, "No, I'm not. I know how you feel."

I recalled his story from earlier: Anelisa. "But you never actually went through it, did you?" I asked.

Another scribble: "No, but I thought about it. I was never one for dealing with pain."

"What'd you do?" I asked.

This one almost made me laugh and get angry at the same time: "I swallowed my pride and talked about it."

"No offense," I said, "But I don't really feel like talking about it."

"Then what _do_ you wanna do?" Liz all but shouted at me.

"You know what I wanna do?" I growled. "I wanna get out of this damn _bed_, find a doughnut, and watch a movie." I ripped the IV tube out of my wrist with my teeth, wincing as it came out. "Cause, seriously, it's creepy and uncomfortable to see you all standing around what was supposed to be my death bed."

I carefully climbed out of the bed and got halfway to the door when I felt an, erm, _uncomfortable breeze_. I looked down at myself and turned beet red.

I had been put in a hospital gown - you know the ones, all white and open in the back and rediculously short.

And no pants.

I shrieked and tried to make the gown longer, and stared in horror at the people in the room.

"_Who the hell took my pants?"_ I said in horror.

* * *

Ah, pants. Never underestimate the ability for pants to heal. Seriously. Once I was back in my own clothes, I felt _worlds_ better. Nice clean black pants can make everyone better. Add in a nice band shirt, and life can't get much better. I swear to _God_ if I ever find out who stuck me in that damn thing . . . .

I had made my way to the kitchen. Clean clothes, no hat or shoes, stitches out for all to see - I ignored the looks of pity and distaste as I opened the fridge. Mmmm . . . doughnuts sounded good, chips sounded better, but double chocolate chip muffins won out. Add in a can of Dr. Pepper, and we had a perfect movie snack. Num yummy.

But what was getting me was the fudge. Someone made a WHOLE PAN of fudge. Grinning like the evil munchkin I was, I pulled out the pan and grabbed a knife to cut it. But just as I was about to, someone took the knife from my hands.

I glared at the agent who had DARED to deprive me of my fudge. He had taken the pan from me, too, and was cutting a generously sized hunk of fudge. He put it on a paper plate, and pushed it towards me.

"What the . . . ?" I asked.

"Sorry, ma'am, but the Directer put you on suicide watch," the agent explained. "No sharp objects for you."

"So I can't even make a BLT anymore?" I snapped.

"Sorry, ma'am, but it's the Directer's orders," the agent looked nervous. He should be - most days, I hurt people for less. But now, I was too tired, and too hungry, to fight it.

I growled and snatched the paper plate containing the fudge, my muffin, and my pop, leaving the agent blinking in disbelief.

* * *

My room was possibly the BEST fort by the time someone came to knock on my door. I used couch cushion and my mattress to make the walls, and blankets for the top, and pillows for the floor. I made it in the corner so I had a good view of the TV and the door.

I had popped in _Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles II: The Secret Of The Ooze_ and settled down for the movie marathon I was planning to have. Just as the BEST part came on (the fight in the toy store right in the beginning), there was a knock on the door.

"It's open!" I called, eyes focused on the screen.

Just as the door opened, the knocker called out, "It's me, kid."

Captain Daimio peeked through the door.

"Wassup?" I asked, more focused on the movie than before.

"I was just comin' to see how you were doin'," he said, sitting down next to my fort. I scrunched so I was closer to the back.

"As you can see," I replied, "I'm hiding, watching the best movie ever, eating fudge and muffins. I'm fine, thanks."

"The best movie ever?" he asked. "I thought you'd be all over some horror movie or something like that."

"Nah, I like the older movies better," I shrugged. "Besides, this is probably the greatest ninja fight scene in the world."

"Nothing better than a guy getting beat up by a ninja turtle wielding a yo-yo," he agreed.

There was another knock, and this time it was Gregory, bearing a card reading, "Can I join in?"

"Sure, dude, just pull up some floor and chill," I crawled out of my fort and motioned to the other side of my fort. "Hope you like guys in bad turtle suits."

By the time Hellboy showed up, we had expanded the fort to fit everyone and were watching _Dracula: Dead and Loving It_, laughing as Dracula fell down flights of stairs.

* * *

**Okay, to note a few things:**

***i took this from a poem I wrote after Wilson died. Call it my Blue Period. **

**TMNT II: SotO is probably the best turtle movie out there, WAY better than the new ones. My favorite part IS the fight in the stores in the very beginning, and I get mad if I miss it. My second favorite part is where they crash the club and 'Ninja Rap' is born. ROFLMAO.**

**Yes, I know that Daimio seems a little OOC here, but seriously, but that's all part of the whole 'suicide' process. He knows more of Jink's past, and he feels bad that she tried to commit suicide, so this is kinda his own 'suicide watch'. **

**So, happy reading, expect another chapter (or two) by the end of the day - I'm snowed in. But I have history, so probably only one. HAPPY DAYS.**

**~Izzy of the Pants **

** ------**

/ /\ \

/__ / \__ \ see? Pants!


	15. The Black Flame

**OMG ANOTHER CHAPTER! WILL WONDERS NEVER CEASE?  
**

* * *

"Drop zone in two!" the pilot called back to us, and I began to click together my parachute. Hellboy had walked in on my movie fest, in a fort with Greg and Daimio. He declined the offer to join us, and told us that Katha-Hem was totally destroying Nebraska or whatever, and that Abe was in the thick of it, and now here we are.

I'm about to parachute into the middle of it, Hellboy coming after me, while everyone else lands closer to it to try and do damage. No holding me back because of thirteen stitches - nope, not even an attempt at suicide can stop me!

"Drop zone in one!" Yep, that's my cue. I got up and stood by the back entrance of the copter, which was slowly opening. I looked back at everyone, and I could tell that they were all thinking the same thing: _is she going to do it again?_ Usually, when I'm on drop-zone, I call out some random quote.

This time, I called out, "No worries!", gave them the peace sign, crossed my arms over my chest, and fell backwards into the air.

Falling through the air is such an indescribable feeling. One can never tire of it. There's nothing like feeling the air rush past you going thirty something miles an hour. I always pull my shoot at the last possible moment, trying to get as much of the feeling as I can.

As I fell, I could see EXACTLY why Katha-Hem was a problem.

It was a giant monster. Think, like the cross between a whale, an octopus, and a worm, make it miles long, and give it some razor sharp teeth the size of cars.

"_That's what I gotta fight?"_ I yelled in disbelief. "_Holy hell!"_

My chute when out automatically, setting me down nice and gently. I quickly shed the thing - one gust of wind and I'd be miles away.

I walked around, careful not to step on anything - or anyone - as I searched for Abe and survivers. All I found was ash and rubble.

I searched for five more minutes before I found Abe - and some weird dude in a metal suit, skull-like face, and a head of black fire. He kinda reminded me of a more high-tech Ghost Rider (pretty good movie, if you ask me).

I ran up to, shouting, "WHO THE HELL ARE YOU!" I was kinda pissed. Not to mention that I was starting to get a killer headache.

And just like that, he was gone. POOF. I ran to the spot where he was sitting, but he was nowhere to be found. Instead of worrying about something that could've been a hallucination, I held out a hand to help Abe up.

"C'mon, man," I said, sighing when he hesitated at the sight of my stitches. "Let's _go_, man!" I reached all the way for his hand and helped him up.

"You missed all the frogs," he commented, "And I don't think you should be here."

"Yeah, me too, but they don't extend bed rest if the damage is self-imposed," I shot back. "Who was that?"

"He calls himself the Black Flame," Abe explained.

"And _this_," I pointed at the uber-monster that was Katha-Ham, "Is all _his_ fault?"

"Yes."

I sighed, and looked around. "Look," I said, "You stay here. Hellboy's out there, and I got something I need to do."

"But-," I heard him say, but it was too late - I was gone around the next pile of rubble.

What was I doing? Well, I had rationed something, almost like this:

The Black Flame caused the smarter frogs.

Roger was _killed_ by smarter frogs - and an explosion.

The Black Flame could easily cause an explosion.

Ergo, _the Black Flame killed Roger_.

Ooooo . . . . just thinking it made my blood boil. I ran around, trying to find out where the bastard was hiding.

It was hard - he was being tied up by frogs. A small shock wave, and the frogs were down for the count. Leaving Mr. Fire Pants all to myself.

"Hey, _friend_," I spat, pushing him over. He was tied to some rigging, so his arms were out to the sides, and he couldn't catch himself. "Let's have a _chat_."

"I-I'm sorry!" he shouted. "I-I didn't mean to kill your friend. The gray man. I'M SORRY!"

"_SORRY'S FOR FIVE-YEAR-OLDS!"_ I shouted, shocking him a little. "_WHAT YOU DID WAS __** INEXCUSABLE!**__"_

"But I'm sorry!" he said weekly. But I was nowhere done with him.

"BECAUSE OF _YOU_," I continued to shout, "MY LIFE IS _FALLING APART!_ I'VE GOT _ALMOST NOTHING_ TO _LIVE_ FOR! YOU KILLED MY _BROTHER!_" I shocked him again, relishing in his screams of pain. "I WISH _I_ COULD GIVE _YOU_ THE PAIN _I_ FEEL!" With an animal-like scream, I picked up the guy and threw him at Katha-Hem.

But I wasn't done - with another scream to the heavens, I threw all I had at the thing. I could hear screaming - not knowing if it belonged to me or the monster - but I was going for broke. Either I killed the thing, or it would kill me in backlash.

Eventually, there was a burst of fire, and I knew that Liz had joined in, and in seconds the thing was nothing but ash. I collapsed on the ground. I could hear footsteps running towards me, but I paid it no attention.

"A little piece of paper with a picture drawn floats on down the street till the wind is gone, and the memory now is like the picture was then - when the paper's crumpled up, it can't be perfect again."

Man, I don't know where my head was, quoting Linkin Park like that, but the quote seemed oddly fitting. Creepy.

Abe helped me to my feet, careful of my wrists, and tried to help me hobble to the helicopter. I pushed him away, and stumbled up to the helicopter. I pushed more people away who wanted to stick me on a stretcher, and said nothing as I buckled myself in.

"Hey, Jink."

I turned slowly at the voice. It was Kate Corrigan. Man, I haven't seen her in a while. Didn't even visit me when I slit my wrists.

"Hey," I said in a dull voice. She sat down next to me.

"Heard you had a run-in with a knife and lost," she tried to joke, but no one really found it funny.

"Hey, Kate?" I asked slowly. "Where'd you guys put Roger?"

"I'll show you when we get back," she promised as the helicopter took off.

* * *

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU MONTERS DOING?"

I walked into the room Kate said they put Roger in, and I find a bunch of scientists trying to _cut him up. _Like he was some new _science expiriment._

"GET OUT!" I yelled at them, and they looked at me like I was crazy.

And boy, was I. "I SAID, _GET OUT!_" I yelled again, and sent a sparkle of electricity their way.

Man, they were out of the room faster than a blink.

I pulled up a chair (one that I had considered throwing at the scientists), and sat next to Roger's body.

"Hey buddy," was all I could manage before the tears started to fall again.

* * *

**Okay, here's the deal: i'm supposed to be working on my book report, and i'm not, and mom totally busted me, saying that our agreement for my buying the laptop is that she got to know my password and what i was doing AT ALL TIMES and now she's pissed and i'm afraid she's gonna steal my laptop named Steve so after I post this i hafta turn 'im off and put him in his bag and put this lock on it so my mom can't take him.**

***deep breath***

**okay, so that's about it. The Linkin Park quote came from FORGOTTEN, and . . . yeah. PRAY THAT MY MOM DOESN'T STEAL MY COMPUTER. IF SHE DOES, YOU'LL NEVER HEAR FROM ME AGAIN!**

**~Izzy of the Pants (they killed my pants!)  
**


	16. The Usual

**ooooh . . . sorta long chapter! ha ha ha ha ha! Kinda a filler, like that . . . one . . . chapter . . . um, yeah, sorry, I gotta go. HAPPY READING, PEOPLE!  
**

* * *

I yawned as I walked into the kitchen. It was, like, seven in the morning, and I was wickedly hungry. I wondered vauguly if there were any Eggos left in the freezer. I think Agent Johnsons might have eaten the last one, but I wasn't sure. I hoped he didn't - waffles sounded really good right now.

I opened the freezer. Frozen peas, frozen french fries, frozen almost everything . . . except waffles. I shut that door and opened the fridge. Cake, soda (I grabbed one of those), more fudge, some old pork chops . . . crap, there wasn't even a pound of bacon to fry up for BLT's. Oh, wait, I forgot - i'm still on 'suicide watch', and I'm not allowed near ropes, knives, chemicals, or any sharp objects whatsoever. So no BLT's for me.

Sighing, I closed the fridge door and leaned on it, popping open the can and taking a nice, long, drought. _Another day, another bought of therapy_.

Yep, all since my wonderfully attempted suicide (about a week ago), I've been in therapy. Wonderful, ain't it? I see TWO of 'em, too. Mr. Jessi is for grief counseling, and Professor Maccbride is for my attempt at suicide. Half an hour with each of them a day for two months, and then only twice a week for another two months, then once every week, then once a month, and I'll be taken off of suicide watch.

. . . . . .

I'm never gonna get out of this circle.

My watch beeped. Yeah, this means that I have exactly 2.3 minutes to get to Mr. Jessi's office. Away I fly.

* * *

Mr. Jessi was a middle-aged man. Bald, skinny, thick glasses, and talks in a slow monotone. If it weren't for the 12 ounces of pure sugar I just chugged into my system, I'd fall asleep.

"So, tell me how you're feeling today, Jink?" Mr Jessi asked, peering over the edge of his clipboard.

"Like a pile of hungry dog crap," I snapped, slouched in my chair. We sat in his office, which was furnished with a desk, degrees from random colleges, and two comfy wine-colored arm chairs, which we both occupied.

"And why do you feel that way?"

"It's approximately 7:34 in the morning, which I always sleep past, in a therapy session I don't want to be in, wishing I had the waffles that another agent had eaten. Other than that, I'm fan-fucking-tastic."

"There is no need for profanity, Jink."

"Fine, I won't use profanity, Mr. Jessi."

"Thank you, Ashley."

This made me jump. "My name is _not_ Ashley," I scoffed.

"Well," he shrugged, "On your birth certificate, it says Ashley Brown. So I shall refer to you as such."

"My name isn't Ashley," I protested. "I've been going by Jink since I was six - I couldn't even _remember_ my real name. So, ergo, it's not my name."

"But, it says _Ashley_ on your birth certificate, so shouldn't that be the name you go by?"

"Why should I? I was named by a cold-hearted bitch that left me on a street corner. _Hellboy_ gave me my _real_ name, so, ergo, I shall go by Jink, and nothing else."

"You like the word 'ergo', don't you?" Mr. Jessi tilted his head to the side, like he was confused. "And what did I say about the profanity?"

I sighed. "_Not_ to . . ."

Mr. Jessi settled down in his chair and folded his hands. "Let's talk about Roger," he suggested.

"Let's _not_ and say we did," I offered.

"There's no need to be hostile, Ashley."

"For the _last time_, my name is not ASHLEY."

He scribbled something down on his clipboard. I had an idea of what it said: _Subject appears to show hostility when mentioning real name or name of the homunculus. Subject does not volunteer information, and refuses to talk unless it is about something trivial, such as the weather, and other people on the base._

How'd I know this? He writes it about every other day, sends it to Manning, and he calls me in and yells at me for wasting the time of Mr. Jessi.

"So tell me about how you feel about the others on the base," he suggested instead. "How do feel about Liz?"

"She's the older sister I ever had," I said automatically. "She was pretty pissed when I slit my wrists."

Mr. Jessi winced slightly at my mentioning of my wrist slitting. "How about Abe?"

"He's okay," I shrugged, looking at my stitches. "We don't really hang out, and he doesn't talk to me like he does as the others, but it's okay - we're still cool."

"And Manning?"

"Manning can kiss my ass."

"Language, Jink. How do you feel about Kate?"

"Kate's cool - wrote some interesting stuff - be we don't hang out that much either."

"What ahout Gregory?"

"Me and Greg are tight. He's my best friend. He's the only one who gets me."

"And Hellboy?"

"He's my dad. I grew up with him. He's the one who . . . who . . . who helped me, after my bitch mommy let me on a street corner."

"Language again, Jink."

"Thank you for using my name."

"What about Ben? Ben Daimio?"

"Daimio's got a giant stick up his ass, and he needs to let loose."

"How do you feel about him?"

"I think I just summed it up for ya."

"Anything else?"

"If I catch him trying to carry me around again I'm gonna slit his throat."

Mr. Jessi scribbled some more on his clipboard. _Subject has anger-management issues. Likes to threaten other agents, but let the record show that she never actually followed _through.

My watch beeped, and I jumped up. "Time to go see Professor Maccbride," I smiled, and gladly walked out of the room.

* * *

Now, Professor Maccbride is the best therapist ever. She's only about 25, has long blonde hair, and dresses in jeans and shirts like I do. When I go to her therapy, we have actual fun. We play _Doom_ and Yahtzee. I tried to pull her into a game of Poker, but she laughed - she heard of the little fiasco with our latest game.

But anyway, she's nice. On our first meeting, she sat me down and said, "Suicide is not the act of wanting to die. It's a way for one to escape the pain of reality, because one has too much pain to deal with all at once. I don't think you're suicidal - I just think you need an outlet for your pain."

We play video games, box, draw (or paint or sculpt), write, she even snuck me out to go ride go-karts. For a therapist, she's pretty cool.

Today, she threw me a hunk of grey-ish clay at me, and said, "Skulpt away, Kemo-Sabe."

I smiled and began to work the clay to make it soft and moldable.

Just as I was pressing it with my hands, Prof. Maccbride presses a button, and a song comes on.

_One last thing I beg you please, just before you go  
I've watched you fly on paper wings half way round the world  
until they burned up in the atmosphere and sent you spiraling down  
Landing somewhere far from here with no one else around__To catch you falling down  
And I'm looking at you now  
_

_And I can't tell if you're laughing  
Between each smile there's a tear in your eye  
There's a train leaving town in an hour  
It's not waiting for you and neither am I_

_Swing for the fences son, he must have told you once  
That was a conversation you took nothing from  
SO RAISE YOUR GLASS *now* AND celebrate exactly what you've done  
Just put off another day of knowing where you're from  
You can catch up with your Sabbath  
if you run_

_And I can't tell if you're laughing  
Between each smile there's a tear in your eye  
There's a train leaving town in an hour  
Its not waiting for you and neither am I_

_Is this the life that you lead?  
Or the life that's led for you?  
Will you take the road thats been laid out before you?  
Will we cross paths somewhere else tonight?  
Somewhere else tonight...  
(Somewhere else.....)_

_And I cant tell if you're laughing  
Between each smile there's a tear in your eye  
There's a train leaving town in an hour  
It's not waiting for you and neither am I_

_And I cant tell if you're laughing  
Between each smile theres a tear in your eye  
Theres a train leaving town in an hour  
Its not waiting for you and neither am I_

I spaced off as I thought of the song, thinking of Roger. Dammit. Almost every thought I have always leads back to Roger. I'll be thinking about cereal and breakfast, and I'll remember that Roger liked Cocoa Puffs with coffee for breakfast. I'll think of a candy cane, and I'll remember the Christmas when Roger tried to make me a hat, but . . . well, let's say that it turned into a total mess. But I was touched that he tried.

As the song faded, I looked down at what I had made.

It was an exact replica of Roger.

Man, I didn't know I had that type of talent.

I set the statuette in front of me. Prof. Maccbride looked at it, carefully picking it up.

"This is wonderful," she praised. "If you want, I can get someone to put it in a kiln so it hardens, and you can keep it."

I nodded, and said nothing.

She put a hand on my shoulder, and said, "You're making wonderful progress, Jink. I know the hurt will never go away, but it will ease over time."

And with that, she actually let me go early.

* * *

I sat down at a table and attempted to eat my cereal. No toast for me - that would involve butter, and a butter knife, and I'm still not aloud to touch those.

Greg sat down in front of me and held a card for me to read: "So, how'd it go?"

I shrugged. "The usual."

* * *

**Alrighty, the song's _Paper Wings_ by Rise Against. I happen to have a thing for the song, so I had to include it. Hope you had fun reading it, now show your love by clicking the little box! REVIEW! PLEASE?**

**Seriously, people - review.**

**~Izzy of Da Pants  
**


	17. Dead Men Tell No Tales

**Wootness! Another chapter!  
**

* * *

I swayed back and forth in mock dancing as I walked down the hallway. I just got out of therapy, and there was nothing better than listening to music and trying to forget.

_Well, they encourage your complete cooperation  
Send ya roses when they think ya need to smile.  
I can't control myself because I don't know how  
And they love me for it - honestly,  
I'll be here for a while!_

"So give them blood, blood, _gallons_ of the stuff," I sang along, "Give them all that they can drink, and it will never be enough. So give them blood, blood, _blooo-ooood. . . _grab a glass because there's going to be a flood!"

I walked into the kitchen, and opened the fridge, searching for breakfast.

_A celebrated man amongst the gurneys,  
The can fix me proper with a bit of luck.  
The docters and the nurses they adore me so,  
Which is really quite alarming,  
Cause I'm such an awful fuck!  
(why thank you!)_

"I gave you _blood, blood, GALLONS of the stuff!_" I sang, even louder this time, "_I gave you all that you could drink, and it has never been enough. I gave you blood, blood, BLOOOOO-OOOOOOD . . . . .I'm the KINDA HUMAN WRECKAGE THAT YOU LOVE!_"

As the song faded away, I thought I heard applause, and I froze. I thought I was alone. God, if I wasn't . . . . I turned around slowly, and turned quite a shade of red.

Greg, Liz, Daimio, and Johann all sat there, clapping.

I nearly dropped my can of soda, and wordlessly, I turned off my iPod - besides, it was a sad song that would've made me cry*.

"You all . . . were . . . . listening . . . to me," I managed to get out.

"You sing very well," Johann pointed out.

"Kind of a weird song, but you sang it well," Liz agreed.

"Song fits ya, too," Daimio laughed.

Greg held up a card that had a drawn version of a thumb's up.

"What is this - American Idol?" I scoffed, "Or is it Kitchen Idol?"

"No, it's grown-ups are taking and you interrupted by singing your emo music," Daimio shot back.

"Hey!" I said indignantly, "MCR is NOT emo! And what do you mean, 'grown-ups'? God, what do you think I am - four?"

"No, you're irrational and pig-headed," he offered.

"Shove it, Zombie-Man," I snapped and made to leave.

"You know, you never told us," Liz called out to me.

"About what?" I asked over my shoulder, walking through the kitchen door.

"About what happened in Mexico."

I stopped dead in my tracks. Scenes from that night flashed through my mind. Blood everywhere. People screaming. Darkness, pain . . . . it was a corner of my mind I didn't venture in often.

"Why would you want to know that?" I asked quietly, leaning on the doorframe. I didn't look behind me.

"Well, I remember when you came back, you wouldn't talk to anyone," Liz pointed out, "And only Roger knew exactly what happened - you'd only talk to him. And when you started to talk to us again, you wouldn't talk about it."

I stepped out of the doorway and let the door close. With reluctance, I walked up to where they were sitting, and sat down.

"Okay, what I'm going to tell you is _not to leave this room_," I said quietly. "And if anyone tells my therapists about this, I swear to god I'll come after you while your sleeping, and I'll be armed with a Sharpie, whipped cream, a bowl of warm water, and a pile of dog crap."

I sighed, hands folded, staring at the table.

"I was eleven," I began quietly. "We were up there for some spook check - some lady thought that her cat was coming back to haunt her - and we were heading back to the helicopter. It was a small town, more like a village. There were people, but not that many. I had stopped to talk to someone, and the next thing I knew, the chopper had flown off without me."

I could feel my eyes glaze, over, and I could see everything so clearly, as if I was there again..

"I sat on the stairs to what they called their 'town hall', and waited for someone to realize I was here, and to come get me. I was content - I had an iPod, I had a hat to keep the sun from my face, all I needed was patience.

But what I didn't expect was a zombie.

It was mid-afternoon, and I was thristy. I had moved from my post on the stairs to hiding under the eaves in the shade. My eyes were closed, and I had turned my iPod off to save the battery. I heard a creak next to me, and I had turned in surprise. He was in the shadows, but I couldn't see his face. I had asked him what he wanted, and he said nothing. I asked him to leave me alone, and he still said nothing. I turned my back on him, and that's when he jumped.

Within minutes, I was on the ground, and he was on top of me. I shocked him, to try and get him off, but ge wouldn't do anything. I elbowed him in the gut, but it was like he didn't even feel it. But when I felt his teeth trying to bite my neck, I panicked and jackknifed, and managed to get him off. I jumped up, and kicked him in the gut, but that was when I got a good look at his face.

His eyes had rolled back into his head, and the lower part of his face was covered in blood. I had turned to run away, but when I turned, there was more coming at me. And I wasn't talking about slower-than-turtle-shit, I'm taking about if-you-don't-run-they'll-jump-your-ass coming at me."

The door opened, and I nearly jumped three feet in the air.

"Hey, was one of you trying to call me?" Abe said, coming into the kitchen.

"Yeah, Jink's telling us what went down in Mexico," Liz said.

"Oh, wow, really?" Look at me - I succeeded in surprising the fish-man. Ain't _I_ special.

"Okay. can I continue?" I asked, exasperated. "Cause I'm not telling this story again."

I waited until they had all settled down, and I picked up where I had left off.

"I ran. I didn't know where to go, but panic had taken over logic, and panic said to run. I didn't scream, though - screaming would attract attention, and that was the last thing I wanted. I ran past a row of buildings, and someone reached out and grabbed me. I nearly screamed then, but the unknown person had a hand over my mouth and an arm around my waist.

I made no sound, no noise, I didn't fight back - this person was twice my height, and three time my weight. He could kill me easily, and I didn't want to give him cause to. But that was the last thing on his mind.

"Hush, be quiet," he had said in broken English. "I am here to help you." He put me down, and I got a good look at him. He had the tan skin, deep brown eyes, and had a t-shirt and jeans on.

"Who are you?" I had asked.

He said that I could call him Marco, but right after that, the zombies found us. He grabbed my hand and ran, pulling me with him. I turned around slightly, and sent shocks at the zombies, trying to take them down. It didn't kill them, but it fazed them - it froze them, but they were able to get up after a few minutes.

He took me into this store - it was a gun store - and he locked the door. The zombies pounded against it, but they couldn't get in. Marco grabbed some guns, and pointed me to this door, right behind the register. It was a set of stairs, and they led to a second floor, and then to the roof.

So we sat on the roof. He shot at the zombies, one by one, and I sent shocks at them. It do much, but it made me feel like I was doing something.

Night fell, and the zombies went off, in search of an easier food source. But we stayed up on the roof, because we had nowhere else to go. During the night, we heard screams of pain, or fear, and it saddened us because we couldn't do anything to help them. But the worst was the silence . . . the complete and utter silence, of no one left alive.

We talked, no that roof. I had to explain who I was, what I did, and why I was there in the first place. I told him we were there to inspect the house on the hill, the one with the ghost cat - and he laughed. Said it was funny.

He told me about his family in Mexico City - a wife, and three kids. he said that he had come back to the town because his grandparents were there, and he wanted to visit.

It started getting later and later, and I was starting to get tired. REALLY tired. But I was afraid to fall asleep. it was one of those nights that I had to pick between sleep and life. Marco told me to go to sleep, that he would keep watch for the zombies. I had protested, telling him that he needed me, but he only said, "You're eleven years old, and fighting zombies. I think you deserve a nap." I had laughed, and as soon as I laid down in a comfortable position, I had fallen asleep.

I was woken up by the sounds of screams. I had only slpet an hour, but the zombies had surrounded the building, and were trying to climbe the sides. Marco had piked me up and was running down the stairs. Down, and down, and down. To the basement. He pushed things up against the door, but they were coming, and the door wasn't going to hold. He told me to go, out the other basement door, that led outside. "I'll hold them off for you!" he yelled at me.

But I stayed.

The zombies broke through the door, and . . . and they got Marco. I was froze to the spot. I watched them dismember him before my very eyes.

Right after that, they came after me. I ran, but on had grabbed my ankle, and tried to shock him into letting go. but I ended up twisting the wrong way and breaking my ankle. I hobbled away, trying to keep ahead of them. but they were getting closer.

I found a gallon of gas, and I had an idea. I threw the gas in the way of the zombies, and shocked the gas. it exploded into a fireball, and I was able to escape. I hid in a bathroom in a locked stall for three hours, until Roger came back for me."

They were silent as I stood up. "So now you know," I said quietly. "Explains the nightmares, the silent treatment, almost everything. Happy now?"

I left the kitchen, and my teammates with their many questions.

Not everything was meant for the light of day. Not every part of the story was true.

The man who jumped me was not a zombie - he was a regular man.

Or should I say, a regular monster.

I didn't meet Marco as I ran from zombies - he saved me from the man. The zombies attacked right after that.

Only Roger knew about this.

Thank God dead men tell no tales.

* * *

**DUN DUN DUN!!! Check it out - the song was BLOOD by My Chemical Romance (WHICH IS NOT EMO!!!) and the * is this song by Pete Yorn called _Lose You, _and it really is sad. I was watching _House_ last night and this episode came on where this dude committed suicide (sound familiar) and I started feeling sad, so yeah. If you want a song or two to listen to why reading, check out WAKE THE DEAD or PARALYZED by The Used.**

**So, happy reading, assumptions can sometimes be true, and all that crap.**

**~Izzy of the Pants  
**


	18. Jink's New Year

**Hey! tomorrow it's back to the grindstone, and you may not hear from me for a few days, so I'm leaving you with one more chapter. I realized I never did a holiday fic for Jink, so this is Jink's New Year. BE HAPPY.  
**

* * *

I lay scrunched under my bed. I refused to come out. No way, Jose. I'm staying right here. Under my bed is way better than the world I'd be forced to face. I refuse to face it. Sorry, the world under the bed is better. Buh-bye.

My door opened, and I saw the familiar hooves waltz into my room. "Lightning Bug?" Hellboy said quietly. "Are ya in here?"

"No," I called out from under the bed. "I'm not here. Go 'way."

"Jink?" He got down on his knees and peered under the bed. "C'mon, Jink, you _gotta_ go!"

"Hell no!" I snarled. "I am _not_ going to some damn party!"

"It's just a party!"

"Exactly!" I snapped. "I don't _do_ parties!"

"You know you love it!" Hellboy teased. "Plus, I know for a fact that someone saved you a box of that candy you love!"

"I don't wanna go!" I protested.

"You know as well as I do that stayin' by yourself all the time is unhealthy," Hellboy said logically.

"I don't care!"

"We both know the reason why."

"I can't do parties. Please," I pleaded, "Just let me stay here."

"No."

"Then you're gonna have to _drag_ me there!" I shouted.

His right hand reached under the bed and latched into my ankle. I let out a startled shreik as he pulled me out from under the bed. Dust was stuck to my hair, and I was wearing a pissed expression.

"That was uncalled for," I said pointedly, crossing my arms.

"You said I'd have to drag you out," Hellboy laughed, letting goal of my leg and standing up. "Come one, get ready - it's exactly what you need after all this."

I glared at him as he left the room. "If I don't see you down there in twenty minutes, I'll be back in here, whether you're in the middle of getting dressed or not," he said as he closed the door.

I moved so I was sitting on the edge of the bed, and sighed. I stopped doing parties a while back - right after the Mexico Incident. Hellboy knew that. He just didn't want me to be alone in my room without someone within shouting distance. Still on suicide watch. Pscha, if I wanted to do suicide again, I'd leave this place and hang myself in the woods. I'm sorry, but I was never one to try something again if it didn't work the first time.

Sighing again, I got up and walked up to my closet. I didn't have much clothing in the 'fancy' persuasion. All I had was shirts and jeans.

I looked down at what I was wearing: an old band-shirt (holey) and jeans (also holey). And I'm guessing that if I showed up like this, I'd get yelled at by Manning.

At these stupid parties, manning always invites senators and governors and all sorts of fancy people, but I never really got it - are we supposed to be _impressing_ these people? Because I'm not an impressive person. By all means, I shouldn't go. But since I knew that if I didn't, Hellboy was going to totally beat me, I pulled out clothes.

Fifteen minutes later, I was dressed in black baggy tripp pants, a black long-sleeve t-shirt, and a regular t-shirt over it, bearing the words DEAD! in white letters. I slipped on my black Vans and grabbed my iPod.

I walked out of my room, making sure that my lights were off and my door was locked. Strolling down the hallway, I clicked the iPod on.

_Before I could ever let you go, gonna beg until I drive you mad  
And say something you could understand  
I'm a statue baby, knock me out  
_

_Oh how these moments fade away, you say you never loved me  
We say things we didn't mean to say  
I take it back, I take it all back now  
I take it back, I take it all back_

_Paralyzed by the same old antics  
Back and forth like some walking spastic  
How could a fistfight be romantic?  
Thinking back now will you ever feel the same?_

I closed my eyes as I bobbed my head. I wasn't concentrating on where I was going, and I ran into a wall. I feel down and just lay there for a second, trying to figure out how a brick wall just appeared in the middle of the hallway. I sat up, rubbing the back of my head where it hit the floor (OW!), and trying to figure out what the hell the brick wall was.

Oh, wow. That wasn't a brick wall - it was Daimio. Crap, it looks like I knocked him down, too. Whoops - he was in a NICE suit, as in, one that you can't really get up off the floor in.

I stood up real fast and put out a hand to help him up. He took it, and nearly dragged me down with him - MAN he was heavy.

"You should watch the hell where you're going," he said, brushing his pants off.

"What about you?" I snapped. I scratched at my stitches - they were supposed to come out in a couple of days, but they itched like mad.

"What the hell are you dressed in?" he asked, finally getting a good view of what I was wearing.

"This is as nice as it gets," I said slowly. "I don't own dresses or skirts, or khakis or corduroys, so this is it."

"Not even a nice shirt?" he asked skeptically. "One that doesn't proclaim the state you were trying to reach a few weeks ago?"

"You should see my other one," I smirked. "Said LIFE'S A BITCH on the front. Want me to change?"

"Just come one," he groaned. He began to walk away, and I just followed.

"Why were you up here anyway?" I asked, following, hands in my pockets.

"Hellboy told me to fetch you," he said. "His exact words were, "Go get Jink's ass down here," I believe."

"Delightful," I said dryly.

* * *

The party was held in one of the bigger conference rooms. Yeesh, adult parties suck. No one's running around - they all just stand around, talking, and drinking champagne. It shouldn't even be called a party - it should be called an excuse for all of them to get drunk off their asses.

And New Year's is the worst. The newbies have a tradition that they have to kiss someone at the stroke of midnight their first year on the job. For the last year or so, the guys's main target was me, and it's starting to piss me off. Guys suck. And no, I don't swing the other way, if that's what you think (though I have no trouble with gay people at all - we're tight like that). Being an agent for a secret organization with no social life whatsoever kinda makes you not care about boy/girlfriends.

So instead of mingling like the other people did, I sat in a chair and watched the party unfold. Seriously, the only funny part was when this old guy got drunk and fell over. That was the ONLY funny part.

"Excuse me, are you Jink?" someone beside me asked.

"Depends on who's askin'," I said slowly. I turned to who was speaking.

It was some middle-aged guy with brown hair, though it was turning gray. He wore an expensive black suitd with a white tie, and held a half-full glass of beer.

"I'm Governor Langstrom," he introduced himself, and held out his hand. "I've heard alot about you."

I shook his hand and dropped it quickly. "Wow, what a coinky-dink," I said, smiling, "I know absolutely nothing about you."

"I'm the governor in charge of the BPRD," he said.

"So, you're like Manning's boss?" I asked.

"Basically, yeah," he shrugged.

"Cool," I sighed.

"Now, I want to ask you something," he said slowly, "Is it true that you tried to commit suicide?"

"Scars don't lie," I said slowly. I held a hand up and pulled down the sleeve to show off the seven stitches.

He winced, and asked, "Why?"

I eyed him critically. "Why the hell should I tell you?" I asked quickly.

"I don't know," he said. "Because I'm basically in charge of you? Because, thanks to me, you have nice therapists to talk to?"

"For all I know, you're a therapist in disguise," I snarled. "You could be one of the newbies. I don't know, and I don't care."

He walked off, shaking his head, and I knew for a fact that tomorrow I was going to get it from Manning.

As the clocked neared midnight, I could see a growing crowd of guys. My stomach knotted and I got up from my chair. No way in hell was I gonna be here when the ball went down.

I made my way to the door, but Hellboy saw me leaving and barred my way.

"Where ya goin', Lightning Bug?" he asked.

"I'm leaving before one of the newbies tries to put the moves on me again," I said.

Hellboy seemed somewhat surprised - and by surprised, I mean completely pissed - and I was able to make my escape.

In my room, as my clock hit midnight, I raised my can of Dr. Pepper, and said to no one in particular, "To Roger. Rest in peace, dude. See ya when I see ya."

_So raise you glass high, for tomorrow we die*_, I thought.

"And have a Happy Fucking New Year," I proclaimed.

* * *

**Okay, so the first song is PARALYZED by The Used (GREAT SONG!) and the *is from MAMA by MCR. Okay guys, this chapter goes out to AKA, the one who's reviewed (almost) every chapter. I haven't heard from the rest of you readers, so if you review, I might take your ideas, because I'm all out of my own.**

**REVIEW!**

**~Izzy of the Pants  
**


	19. Coven

**Okay, guys, here's another chapter. I'll try and get the other chapter before midnight, but I make no promises.  
**

* * *

It was bright and early. Me, Greg, and Daimio sat at a small table in the conference room. I slouched in my chair, Greg doodled on a piece of paper, and Daimio toyed with a pen. We were all waiting for Manning and Kate Corrigan to come into the room and tell us what we were doing.

I yawned - it was TOO early, if you ask me. No Dr. Pepper, no sugary cereal . . . I wouldn't be surprised if I fell asleep on the table.

"Don't know what this guy's problem is," I muttered darkly. "Calls us in at the asscrack of dawn, then doesn't show."

"Watch - he's gonna show up with cups of coffee, tryin' to make himself look good," Daimio bet.

Greg pulled out one of his note cards and wrote, "I had a boss that would do that - come in late to make him look important."

"Did it work?" I asked.

"Made him look late," Greg wrote.

I let out a sputter of laughter as the door flung open and Manning and Kate walked in. Manning held a coffee (ONE), and was giving excuses. Kate was carrying a pile of papers, and let them fall to the table with a _whoosh!_

"What, no coffee for me?" I asked, feigning sadness.

"Let's get this started," Manning sighed, taking a drink of his coffee. "We got a coven of witches. The city says that people are going missing, and all signs point to them."

"What city?" Daimio asked. "What _coven?_"

"It's Columbus, Nebraska," Kate informed us, "And it's a coven that calls themselves the Children of the Storm. Worship a goddess named Elektra, who's supposedly the goddess of lightning. They also - supposedly - offer blood sacrifices to a statue of the goddess in a basment of the home of the preistess."

"What time do we leave?" I groaned.

"As soon as possible," Manning said.

"Joy," I muttered.

Kate passed the folder to me, and I just passed it on to Greg - I didn't want to check out pictures of some crime seen. I was getting a killer headache.

Greg flipped through the folder, and held up a picture, and one of his notecards. "Look familiar?"

It was a picture of a painting. It showed a mountaintop, during a storm. A figure stood on top of the mountain, and the lightning seemed to originate from the figure's hands, and if closely looked at, you could see the figure was a girl, and the girl wore a LOT of black.

"Creep-py," I agreed.

* * *

Helicopters are uncomfortable. Bet you didn't know that, but they are. I hate the damn things. The seats are hard, it's always too hot, and they smell. I lay across two seats, using my jacket at a makeshift pillow. I wore fraying fingerless gloves and a skull cap. Just cause it was hot in the chopper didn't mean it wasn't cold cold outside.

Greg sat in the seats across from me, still flipping through the folder.

I sighed as I flipped through my iPod. I didn't want to go. My head hurt, and life was hard enough as it is without having to go up against a bunch of chicks who thought they were blessed by a goddess of electricity.

Okay, I'll admit it - I'm a skeptic. I find it hard to believe in some goddess who throws random powers around. I believe in an after life (I've SEEN that), and I do think that someone out there is controlling who gets what in life, but this whole goddess crap is, well, crap.

Greg gave an insect sigh and held up a card: "Aren't you worried about this whole Elektra thing?"

"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't," I said slowly, "But I'd be lying if I said I was. Paradoxes are a bitch, ain't they?"

"But what if they have the same powers, or are stronger than you?" This question came from Daimio, who sat in a seat across the mini-aisle, reading a random piece of paper.

"Than I'll blame you!" I said brightly. Daimio only glared and went back to reading his paper.

I sat up and leaned closer to Greg. "That's his way of showing that he cares," I whispered. "He just doesn't want people to know."

"HEY!"

**************

Ah, Columbus, Nebraska. It's a medium city, not much going down. But it's a city, and I don't like cities. Too many people, too many eyes watching me, too many nasty smells that hurt my nose. Thank god I don't have to go out there. The house we're looking for is on the outskirts of town, and the BPRD provided a van for us. Well, it's more for Greg (people might panic if they saw a giant cockroach walking around, and that is the LAST thing we want) but I love it all the same.

The house was of old grey weathered stone, the doors of heavy oak, and the shades were drawn. We had to go in there and find the missing people, and take down the witches. Simple, right?

"Okay, Jink, you go through the basement door," Daimio ordered. "Greg, you go through the side. I'll go through the front. if anything goes wrong - and I mean _anything_ - call for help. No one try to be a hero."

"Sure thing, Cap'n," I said, fitting my iPod in my pocket and securing my hat on my head. "If we don't make it alive, it's a helluva good day to die*."

"And _none_ of that deathwish crap!" Daimio snapped. "It's _my_ job to bring you back - and I'm not aloud to have missing pieces!"

"Fine, fine," I said, holding my hands up in the universal 'whoa' gesture. "I'll be back. Keep the chopper warm. I promise I'll come back, okay? Jeez, slit your wrists _once_ and they _never_ let it go . . . "

And with that, I made my way to the back of the house. The basement door was like a shed that led to stairs, that in turn led to the basement. The door wasn't locked, to my surprise. I opened it carefully, making sure it didn't squeak. The stairs were made out of stone, so I didn't need to worry about squeaky stairs. There was another door, made out of dark wood and cast iron. This door wasn't locked either, and that was making me suspicious.

I opened it carefully, and what I saw . . . was a normal basement. There was a table that held some tools, a bench to sit on, and some random assorted boxes.

"This is it?" I asked aloud. "Man, these witches suck if this is their place."

I didn't know the dude was behind me until I felt a piece of rope go around my neck and pull taunt. I struggled to pull the rope away from my windpipe, but he was too strong, and I collapsed in a cloud of darkness.

* * *

**OMG A CLIFFHANGER! Ha ha ha! Well people, i'm having a bad day - Mom promised me BLT's, and all we had was bacon. She skimped out on everything else, saying she 'forgot' it at the store, but I know what happened - she just never bought it. So all I've had today was three pieces of bacon and three cans of Dr. Pepper. Wow, am I the epitome of healthy living or what?**

***HALF-TRUISM by The Offspring**

**~Izzy, who wears pants  
**


	20. Blood

***evil laughter* NO SCHOOL TOMORROW! Ha ha ha! I'm all high on no school and these white fudge pretzls mom got me from No Frill's and so here we go with another chapter! HAPPY READING!  
**

* * *

Man, it was hot. I thought I was back on the helicopter. I groaned in my sleep and tried to roll over. What I met was air, and pain. I hissed and my eyes snapped open. It was blurry at first, but it soon came into focus.

We were in a round, stone chamber. I must've been in the middle, because I couldn't see the other side behind me. There were people in robes surrounding the center.

I struggled against my bonds. Man, my arms hurt. I looked up, and I saw why. I was hanging from the ceiling by my wrists, bound in chains. I wiggled my arms, trying to see if I had any give. Too bad - iron manicles didn't have any give.

I swung my legs out, and saw that I couldn't reach the ground. It might have been comical, seeing me swing my legs around like that, but all I achieved was a more powerful shoulder ache.

"Hey, _who put me here?!?!"_ I shouted at the robed figures. In the darkness, I couldn't make out anything about them. I tried to turn to see if anyone was behind me, but the chains were fixed - I couldn't move. I was a sitting fucking duck.

I heard a faint, but familiar, chitter, and I tried again in vain to turn my head. "Greg?" I called. "Daimio? Where you guys at?"

I heard a groan, and I knew that was Daimio. "Guys, hold on!" I shouted. "I'm coming!"

I twisted the chains, only harder. Then I had a big DUH moment.

I tried to shock the chains, but I discovered something that made my blood run cold.

The chains actually _dampened_ my powers.

"Crap crap _triple_ crap damn shit _FUCK!"_ I shouted, my voice growing louder.

One of the robed figures stepped forward and lowered her hood. Her hair was flaming red, and her skin was as pale as snow. Her eyes shown with green fire, and she grinned at me.

"Such foul language from a such a small girl," she practically purred, walking around me in circles. I didn't try to turn to watch her - I already knew the chains wouldn't move.

The woman came back into my ine of view, and tilted her head at me while she gave me an all-over stare-down. It was fucking _creepy_ - like I was a piece of meat.

"You're _perfect!"_ she said breathlessly, and the robed people let out a holler.

"For what?!?!" I asked, confused.

"We've been looking for the perfect sacrifice to our goddess," the woman said, walking around me again. "One who was of our blood, but not our coven. One who had the Gift. One who was fearless, strong of will and heart, one . . . just like you."

I glared at her, and snarled, "I swear to _God_-"

She backhanded me. I was shocked for a second, but I recovered quickly, moving my jaw and tasting blood in my mouth.

"You will not speak the name of your ill-fated Savior in my home," she said acidly.

"Bitch," I muttered, then spoke up, "So, you guys are gonna sacrifice me?"

"Yes," she nodded, smiling. "We're going to drain your body of blood, and when your body is dry, out goddess is going to take your body for hers."

I paused, chosing my words cafefully: "That is . . . the _biggest_ . . . piece if _crap_ . . . I've ever heard!"

"You'll be singing a different tune once our blades have kissed your skin," she said slyly, and with a wave of her hand, my body spun to face the other way.

Shit.

"But why should _we_ have all the fun?" she asked innocently. "Especially since I _know_ your friends would want to see this."

Daimo had been chained to the wall, and there was a break in the circle of robed figures so I could see him . . . and he could see me. And next to him, in the most demeaning way, was a mini-Greg, stuck in a pickle jar. It made me want to cry. But there was no way for either of them to get out.

Shit again.

"And we _are_ going to have some _fun_," she hissed, and pulled this wicked and crooked blade out of her robe. I paled at the sight of it. "But first, we need to get rid of this hideous clothing." She stuck the edge of the knife into my shirt and ripped down.

"BITCH THIS IS ONE OF MY FAVORITE SHIRTS!" I shouted.

"Go ahead and scream," she said, slicing up my shirt, "You'll scream much _more_ before we're through with you."

I swore to myself that I wouldn't scream, no matter how much the cuts hurt. No way - not if it brought this bitch joy. She can kiss my ass.

One more slice, and my shirt fell away, leaving my upper torso bare, except for my bra. Then she went to work on my pants. She had a harder time on the denim than the cotten, and I made sure to get my kicks in.

"What, you got some kinky tying-up/cutting-clothes-away fetish?" I snarled. "Cause I'm sure there are more willing people here, bitch. You _suck_. I can't believe that you're having fun _taking off my pants_. Fucking bastard."

I shivered in the cold of the chamber, and closed my eyes. _I'm not here . . .I'm not here . . . I'm ANYWHERE but here . . . please God, don't let Greg or Daimio get hurt . . . let them get away . . . _

"What about my friends?" I asked quietly.

"Once we get through with you, the man's next," she said slyly. "Another bloody sacrifice for our lovely goddess. And the bug . . . . we'll squish him, like the roach he is."

I kept my eyes closed. I did nothing as I felt the knife bit my skin. A long, deep, slice right down my leg. I gripped the chains and grit my teeth. I refused to scream.

Another slice. And another. And another.

I refused to scream, and to open my eyes. I didn't want to see their faces. It was bad enough to hear their screams. Greg's were incoherent - just clicks and squeals that I could barely hear and couldn't decipher. But Daimio was vocal enough for the both of them.

"GET YOUR HANDS OFFA HER, YA CRAZY BITCH! STOP! I SWEAR TO WHATEVER FUCKING GODDESS YOU BELIEVE IN THAT IF YOU CUT HER AGAIN I'LL KICK YOUR ASS SO HARD YOU'LL SLEEP STANDING UP FOR A YEAR!"

Heh, he took that one from me.

After an hour of hearing him scream for me, I opened my eyes and glared at him.

"Stop screaming," I said coldly. "It's what she wants - screams. Scream, and you give her satisfaction. _Please_, just _stop_."

I could hear the defeat in my voice - I bet he could, too. He gazed at with such . . . such disappointment, I had to look away.

The torture went on for hours. I was getting woozy from blood loss. My blood was pooling on the floor. Ew - but I bet it'd be funny if that bitch slipped in it.

"Marvelous," she said, making another slice. "I've never seen someone hold out for so long. You are a strong one."

"Shut the fuck up," I slurred. I opened my eyes and tried to focus so I could at least spit in her face, but it was hard to. That's when it hit me.

I wasn't going to pull through this one.

"Guys . . . don't let her take my iPod . . . ." I muttered, but then my eyes snapped open.

"BITCH, MY _IPOD_ WAS IN THOSE PANTS!" I shouted, struggling against the chains. "AND YOU LET THEM FALL ON THE BLOODY FLOOR!"

With a roar, I reached for the powers I knew would be denied me. I reached out and kicked the bitch square in her face. She fell, and I continued to thrash and kick, trying to get free. My limbs were beginning to get heavy. I stopped, panting and considered what to do next. I swung on the chain. I remembered that Daimio still had his locater belt on him.

"DAIMIO! PRESS THE BUTTON!" I shouted. "PRESS THE GODDAMNED BUTTON!"

I gasped as I felt a sharp pain in my stomach. I looked down . . . . to find the wicked dagger sticking out of my gut.

"Craaaaaaaaaaap . . . . . "

* * *

Man, I do get tired of passing out. It sucks - majorly. But this time, I was't sure if I was going to wake up. But I did. I was on a grassy hill, staring up into the cloudless blue sky. It felt nice. Up in the mountains, it's not this nice 'n sunny, so it was a big change for me. I shifted around a little bit - yep, I was wearing clothes again.

I sat up, and looked around. Rolling, grassy hills as far as I could see. Looking down at my feet, I realized I was back in my white hippy clothes - all baggy, and nothing like what I normally wore.

"This is bad, Jink."

I turned around to see Roger sitting close by. I crawled over to him and leaned on his arm.

"Heeeeeeeeeeey Roger," I sighed. "What's bad?"

"You being here."

"Why?"

"That means you're dead, Jink."

Well, this was news to _me_.

"Well, there's a change in pace," I shrugged. "I thought it was a Heaven-or-hell type of deal."

"Well, I didn't go to those places," Roger pointed out. "Maybe you're like me."

"What - a homunculus? I think I would have figured that out by now."

"No - man made, or made by someone who wasn't God."

"Thanks, Roger," I said dryly. "So, I'm dead. Joy. What now?"

"I don't know," Roger shrugged.

"Well . . . . I'm gonna take a nap," I decided, and laid down and closed my eyes.

* * *

"Jink? Jink, c'mon, girl, wake up!"

I moaned and shifted - I was too tired.

"I don't care HOW tired you are - WAKE THE FUCK UP!"

Mooooooo . . . . I didn't wanna. I swatted out at the voice, wishing it would shut up.

"If you don't wake up, I'll . . . . I'll . . ."

My voice was barely a whisper: "Continue to grasp at straws?"

"Jink, thank God . . ."

* * *

I faded in and out of life and consciousness. Things came in framents, merely images that made no sense. One moment I was in the Lil' Basement O' Horror, and the next I was in a stretcher.

Then I remembered the faces. They were nothing but shadows against the light, but I felt scared. I flipped my arm out and grabbed onto something. Only when the something I grabbed squeezed my hand did I realize that I had grabbed someone's hand.

"Don't leave . . . ." I had whispered, and poured all my focus into keeping my hold on the hand. But it didn't matter - I lost myself in the dark again.

* * *

**Okay, so sorry if the chapter sucks majorly - I was writing on a high, and that gets pretty ugly. Zipper's the one that suggested that the witches shrink Greg, so YEAH FOR HER!**

**Man, I look at what you guys write, and I feel so . . . . inadequate compared to you all. Keep writing good, people - the world needs writers and readers like you.**

**~Izzy, who wears pants  
**


	21. Graveside Conversations

**HELLO LOVES! I've been working on this chapter all day. Nothing ever seemed to turn out right, and I'm still not sure about the end. So, like, yeah, um . . . (is still sugar high) why, yes I am! I blame chocolate/PB pretzels. those things DEFINE 'Num Yummy'.  
**

* * *

Anyone else find it hard to wake up? Sleep is such a wonderful place, and no one really wants to leave it. And waking up, you always _hurry_, trying to get everything done before you have to get where you're going. Uhg, life's better if we had more time to sleep.

I was no exception. Every time I was somewhere near the waking world, I pushed it aside and went back to sleep. Life was better where I was. I wasn't hungry - I was tired. And sleep seemed like the best thing at the moment.

And I didn't want to hear the voices. They intruded my sleep, trying to wake me up, but I always managed to push them back, stay in my little world. But they get in.

_" . . .she'll wake up?_

_"Cuts . . . . knife wound . . . blood loss . . ."_

_" . . .coma . . ."_

_"Stay alive . . . "_

_"Hundreds of stitches . . . everywhere . . . "_

Damn voices.

* * *

But there comes a time when we must all wake up, leave the little world of sleep behind, and find some Dr. Pepper. I opened my eyes, and found myself staring at a wall. A white wall, to be exact - nothing like the grey metal I know is my room.

I shifted my legs around. Nope, this wasn't my bed - the sheets weren't as warm or scratchy as my Chevrolet blanket*.

I lifted an arm, slowly, and saw nothing but gauze. Some of it was stained red, but most of it was clean. Using said limb, I pulled myself up into a sitting position.

I hissed in pain - it felt like my skin had shrunk three sizes. I wanted to tear it off so I could move again. I whipped the blanket back, and I saw that I had been stuck in one of the ridiculous hospital gowns again. But this time, I was in the clear - my entire body was covered in gauze.

It was hard to get out of bed, especially with my 'skin-feels-too-tight' thing going down, but I managed it. Now I just had to get to my room. I opened the door that led to the hall.

_Holy hookers, Batman** - the place is empty!,_ I thought to myself. The halls were as empty as a s school on a snow day. Making it relatively easy to make a clean getaway to my room.

All in all, it took me twenty minutes to get to my room. I said I made a CLEAN getaway, not a FAST one. _You_ trying going fast when covered in gauze!

In my room, I make my way to the bathroom to shed the gown and gauze - there's a chance someone could come looking for me, and I don't want them to run into my room when I'm in the middle of getting dressed.

Um, yeah, after unwrapping the gauze, I could see why I'm in so much pain. I was covered in stitches. Hundreds of 'em. I looked like Frankenstein's monster. My body, my arms, my neck, my back - whoa boy, they're gonna itch like a bitch when they heal.

I walked out of the bathroom and donned a pair of my baggiest pants and my baggiest shirt. I left my room again, careful of anyone who was awake. I didn't know what time it was - my internal clock was WAY off - but I had the feeling that I'd get int trouble for being out here, no matter WHAT time it was.

But I had someone to visit before I went down.

* * *

The mountains are confusing. We have weird winters. One week, it'll be snowing like the end of the world, and the next, the snow will be melting and it'll feel like spring outside. We'll even have a few days of dry dead grass before we get blown out by another snow storm.

Today - erm, tonight - it's one of those times where the grass is dry and the temperature is wonderful. Without shoes, the grass was a littl prickly, but it's something one overlooks. Besides, I wasn't just going for a midnight stroll - I was a girl on a mission. No, not a 'save-the-world' mission - it was a personal mission, just to put my own heart at rest.

I was going to see Roger.

See, this is where I felt the worst about him. He had asked us - Johann, actually - if he could be buried in the ground - 'Like a man,' he had put it. And we did, but thanks to supposed body snatchers, we could't even put his real name on it. He was buried under the name Archie Stanton, and he was who I was going to see.

I found it easily - his grave was on a rolling hill, the nameplate unreadable in the darkness. I sat down next to it, hissing in pain as my skin tried to stretch where it couldn't.

"Hey, Roger," I said, laying my hand on the marker. "How goes it, man?"

I waited for an answer I knew would never come.

"Yeah, as you can see, I'm back in the land of the living," I said, laying down in the dead grass. "Not a very nice place - not as nice as the places I saw you in."

Wow, here I am, having a conversation with a dead body, waiting for it to talk to me.

"I wish you could be here, man," I sighed. "Life sucks major ass. I don't know why those people chose _me_ . . . was it because I was the first one there? Already one who's had an NDE? Those things are pretty cool, all things considered."

I looked up at the stars, searching for the familiar constellations.

"I don't know if Greg's okay," I said sadly. "Or if Daimio's okay. All I know is that I've got a couple hundred stitches to add to my collection."

I held up an arm to look at it better. There were four or five cuts on just _one_ arm, and each one had between ten and twenty stitches. That was ONE ARM. Who knows how many stitches I had all over my body? Probably the doctors, since they're the ones who sewed me up.

"I look like Frankenstein's monster," I added. "You'd laugh at the one - you liked that movie. But I really do. I'll be scarred for life - physically and mentally. Double whammy."

I stopped talking. I almost expected an answer. But not really.

"You liked Superchick, too," I went on. "When we'd hang out and listen to music, that was the band you always asked for. This one song . . . _Rock What You Got_ I think . . . that was your favorite."

I hummed the tune of the song, trying to remember what the exact words were.

_This one's for the beaten down  
The ones who lost their rock and roll  
Rise up you lost ones, claim your crown  
You were born to rock inside your soul._

"You loved that song," I said dreamily, lost in my memories. "It was great to dance to - great beat. You used to try and get me to dance in front of people, and you would laugh at how red my face would turn. Reminds of something funny that happened a few weeks ago. I walked into the kitchen singing _Blood_ by MCR - at the top of my lungs. And everyone was listening and watching. God, I was never so embarrassed."

Damn, I could almost hear him laughing at that one.

"But you know me - _I-----'m theeeeeee KINDA HUMAN WRECKAGE THAT YA LOVE!"_ I sang the last part, trying to be funny.

"I told them about what happened in Mexico," I said. Funny was gone. "I didn't let them know all the details, but they get the gist of it. Only you know what really happened."

I could almost hear the unasked word: _Why?_

"I'm already on suicide watch and stuck in two different types of therapy," I scoffed. "I don't want things to get worse. And the _last_ thing I want is pity."

I lay in the grass, watching the sky, content to be outside, when the first alarm went off. It was loud and high-pitched, causing a ringing headache.

"And there they go," I mutter. "You know, I bet this is a killer hill in the summer. Beautiful sunlight AND moonlight, lovely grass, an awesome view . . . "

I yawned. I shouldn't be yawning - I wasn't tired. I slept for God knows how long - I shouldn't be tired.

Unless, like, the doctors drugged me.

. . . . . .

Crap.

Another alarm joins the first, and I can see flashlights in the distance. Even far away, the lights seem too bright, and I rolled over so my back was facing the base. Damn lights. I could see them getting closer. I smiled as I thought of how I could scare them - short out the batteries in the lights. Yeah, that aughta spook 'em.

But I didn't - I wasn't up to it. I'd just let them find me here, in all my tired glory.

Of course, I wasn't expecting a boot poking me in the side. I didn't jump, but I scooted away from the boot. Damn boot. It poked me again, but I scooted away from it agian.

"Wake up, Jink." It was Liz.

"I'm awake," I pointed out.

"Then get up off the ground."

"It's warm here."

"If you don't get up, I'll set Manning on you."

"Ooo, I'm _so_ scared." I sat up and glared at her. She glared back. WIth a sigh, I stood up and windmilled to keep my balance.

"Don't know why you're out here, anyway," Liz grumbled, leading the way back to the base.

"I'm fine," I pointed out.

"Have you seen yourself?" Liz snapped. "You're a walking sewing project."

"Yeah, but I'm alive, ain't I?" I asked, smiling. "Life could be worse."

"Just come on."

* * *

The doctors forced me into a gown and gauze . . . again. I growled and crossed my arms, hunching my shoulders and staring at the bed covers. I cursed the doctors, hospitals, and humans in general. It's three in the morning, and all I want to do is deck someone. Or maybe get some Dr. Pepper.

Daimio walked into the room (can't the man knock?) and sat in the availible chair. I glare at him - I;m just mad the the entire fucking world.

"Saw you went for a walk," he said conversationally.

"Nice powers of observation ya got there, Captain Obvious," I said sarcastically.

He pulled an object out of his pocket and tossed it to me. I easily snatched it out of the air, and realize it's my iPod.

"Whoa, ya saved it for me!" I said happily.

"I just knew that if I didn't, as soon as you were able to get up you'd kick my ass," he shrugged.

"Damn right," I agreed. "Thanks, dude."

"What can I say?" he shrugged again. "Toldja it was my job to make sure you came back in one piece. The iPod's part of the deal."

* * *

I got the low-down from Greg (who was returned to his normal size, thank God) later, after Daimio had left.

He had gone through extreme measures to rescue my iPod from a bloody fate.

He was the one who noticed I wasn't in my bed, and called the alarm.

And (I'm not sure about this - he could've lied) when I was going into surgery, I had reached out for someone and begged them to stay with me.

That was him, too.

"Crap," I said. "This is kinda weird."

Greg held out a note card: "You're telling me - if I didn't know any better, someone would think he likes you."

"That's just plain creepy," I said. "He's a cool guy - higher in my book, since he saved my iPod - but I'm not all for somethin' like that right now."

"So, you'd be interested if you were older?" Greg wrote. If he had a human face, I knew he'd have a suggestive smile.

"Shut up."

* * *

***My brother had this blanket that said CHEVROLET on it, and it was the warmest (and scratchiest) blanket in the world. So yeah, there ya go, Jink has one now.**

****Yeah, me and my friend Kira had all these ideas about things Robin could've said to Batman, and this was high on out list. Can you imagine a tecaher's face if you say "HOLY HOOKERS, BATMAN!"? Funny stuff, guys.**

**Yeah, aboot the end . . . . yeah, despite what you think, THIS IS NOT A LOVE STORY. Unless, like, that's what you people want, but I'm not doing that. Sorry. He's filling in the 'older brother' role in her life, since Roger's gone and bought the farm. So there XP.**

**Review, my minions. If you don't . . . . NO NEW CHAPTERS FOR YOU!**

**Oh, and the song was an idea stolen from AKA, my loyal reader. HA! I used it!**

**~Izzy of the pants that were stolen  
**


	22. La Camisa Negra

**ha! Hello, loves! how goes it! Well, this chapter has a wee bit o' spanish in it - the title mean _The Black Shirt_. You'll see as the chapter goes on. REVIEW!  
**

* * *

Ah, the gym. I'm beginning to see why this is such a nice place. Think of your average high school gym, make it twce the size, and add state-of-the-art exercise equipment - and a few punching bags. Yep, that's what the BPRD's gym looked. And that's where I currently was.

Dressed in a tank top and sweat pants, I was punching away at a punching bag, trying to build myself back up. I used to be able to bench almost twice my weight, but that was before I went suicidal and got totally attacked by some witches. I had to build back up if I ever wanted to be back in perfect position.

My iPod blasted Juanes out, and I timed my punches to the beat of the song.

_Tengo la camisa negra  
Hoy mi amor esta de luto  
Hoy tengo en el alma una pena  
Y es por culpa de tu embrujo_

Yeah, I know it's Spanish, but when translated, it's a nice, dark, song. Almost like Dragostea Din Tei (aka the 'Numa Numa' song), but more my speed.

I wasn't at the point of singing the song - I couldn't pronounce the words - but I got move to the beat. But that didn't include the next song.

_Mama, we all go to hell.  
Mama, we all go to hell.  
I'm writing the letter and wishing you well.  
Mama, we all go to hell._

_Oh, well now, Mama, we're all gonna die.  
Mama, we're all gonna die!  
Stop asking me questions - I'd hate to see you cry  
Mama we're all gonna die._

I grinned to myself, and I stopped beating the bag. I wanted to do something that was more . . . work. I looked around the gym - there were treadmills, stationary bicycles, and all sorts of weights. I've already ran enough for the day, and I didn't want to cycle. The only thing there was to do was weights.

Now, I've been told by hundreds of people - well, not hundreds, but enough to seem that way - that doing weights without someone to spot me is dangerous. But I went with it anyway.

I loaded weight onto the bar - about ninety pounds - and set to work. It was a little hard at first, but I found a rhythm and got into the swing. I had to take off my iPod - instinctual urges told me so - so all I got to listen to was the sounds of my bones creaking under the weight.

"You know, it's dangerous to lift weights without someone spotting you."

Will this man EVER leave me alone? Seriously, it's starting to creep me out - is he my new stalker or something? It's weird and creepy.

I didn't stop my regime, but replied, "Says you, dude. I can do this just fine."

Daimio leaned over me as I worked out.

"Dude, unless you want one of the weights here shoved up your ass, you had best move yourself," I warned. He moved back, and I left the wieghts back into the bar rest. I sat up and stretched, hearing my bones creak and pop. And trust me, there's nothing weirder than snapping your elbow straight, and hearing a crack as loud as a gunshot.

"Happy now?" I asked. "No more for today. I'm good. Maybe tomorrow."

"You sure it's smart to be weight-lifting after being down for so long?" he asked.

"Why the hell do you care?" I snapped. "Who the hell do you think you are - my dah? He's _long gone_, amigo."

I got up and stalked over to a treadmill. Who cares if I already ran today - I felt like running, and if I ran in the building again, Manning said he was gonna chain me to my bed with super rubber so I can't even shock myself free. Damn rubber.

I clicked my iPod so it was back on _La Camisa Negra_ - this song had the beat I could run to, and I wouldn't be tempted to sing aloud. Perfect.

No, wait, it wasn't - Daimio was still watching me. I popped an earbud, then changed my mind and hit PUASE. "Why do you look at me like that?" I asked. "You're creepin' me out, and I feel like shockin' you to Kingdom Come."

"You remind me of my sister," he said conversationally.

"Whoa, hold the phone - _you_ have a _sister_?" I asked, amazed. "Younger?"

He nodded, and continued. "She'd be around twenty-five. She was just like you - like you're her mirror image."

"Insane," I said.

"What was insane was how she died," he said, looking away. "Drive-by. I always thought she'd go down in some Apocalyptic explosion - a bullet seemed to trivial to take her away."

"Sorry about it, Cap'n," I stopped the treadmill. "I was an only child, but I kinda know how you feel."

He looked at me questioningly, and I said, "I grew up with Roger. He was my partner in crime. This one time we glued Manning's ass to his chair, and when he wanted to find us and yell at us, he had to carry the chair."

I let out a sputtery laugh, and went on. "When someone who's been there since the beginning goes, it's such a shock because you've never had to go _without_ them, and now you have to figure out how."

This caught Daimio off guard, and the room was silent. "You're wiser than your age, kid," he said at last.

"Violets are red/ Roses are blue/ Everything's possible/ Nothing is true*" I quoted back at him.

"Greg says not to push yourself too hard - you'll collapse again, and you got a mission to get to," Daimio said, and smiled, "And despite working out, you're kinda heavy to carry."

"Be glad there's nothing within reach I can throw at you," I muttered, and jumped off the treadmill. "Besides, tengo la camisa negra y debajo tengo el difunto**"

"Don't say that 'round your shrinks," Daimio said sternly. "You're still on the watch."

"Damn suicide watch."

* * *

"Righty-o, Greg, let's get this show on the road," I sighed. "Who gets to go down first?"

Me and Greg stood at the edge of a giant fissure. There was something moving deep down, and now it was up to chance to see who was jumping down first.

"Tails, I go down," I pulled out a coin, "Heads, you go down."

He gave an insect's nod to show that he agreed, and flipped the coin.

"Damn - tails," I sighed and put the coin away, and hooked myself up to a rappelling rope. "Make sure I don't fall, dude."

Greg pulled out his cards and a pen and wrote, "No prob, Jink. There are other agents here - if something goes wrong, we'll be able to save you," before picking up the rope with the hands before motioning for me to start scaling down the crack.

"Joy," I muttered as I started to rappel down. "Watch out for male bonding!" I knew he wanted to ask what I meant, but I was already down the hole.

Now, don't tell anyone but I'm uncomfortable around heights. Not enough to be freaking right now, but enough that I'm worried that I'm gonna fall and die and all those _fun_ thoughts to have while you're scaling down a wall that's so deep you can't see the bottom.

I started humming to keep my nerve, but I got a radio call from Greg, via Daimio.

"Greg wants to know if you're humming or singing," he asked quickly.

"Yeah, uh, being this far from the bottom of something is kinda nerve-wracking," I informed him. "You see, my man, there's something down here that made this crack, and I don't feel the need to meet it first hand, ya dig?"

"Why the hell are you talking like that, kid?" Heh, it was funny to hear him get angry over something like that.

"Sorry, daddy-o, fear makes me talk betnik, and I was reading Scott Meyer before I left***," I commented.

"Nice," he replied.

"Anyways, how's the male bonding up there?" I asked conversationally, trying to keep myself calm.

"Male . .bonding?" Daimio asked slowly.

"Yeah, just the guys hangin' out?" I explained. "Or even if there's a girl there, it's still male bonding. Sorry, my crazy popped out there."

I stayed silent, making sure that I kept my hold on the rock. But when I saw what was down there, I panicked.

"PULL ME UP! PULL ME UP! PULLMEUPPULLMEUPPULLMEUP!!!!!" I shouted. I struggled to climb as fast as I could, but there was a tugging, and I let go, letting them all pull me up.

As I hit the edge, I reached out and scrabbled onto it, trying to stop hyperventilating.

"What was it?" someone asked quickly.

"Big . . . _really_ big . . .," I gasped. "Looked like . . . . a _dragon_ . . . "

And that's when the earth began to shake.

* * *

**CLIFFHANGER!**

***V For Vendetta comic.**

****"I have a black shirt, and underneath I have deceased". it has been translated into different ways, but I liked this one best.**

*****Scott Meyer's How To Act Natural **

**Okay, so in this one, I gave more into Daimio's past, since no one else has. So yeah, NO ROMANTIC INTEREST THERE! And yes, Jink is somewhat afraid of heights, so there XP. Um, please review. I have another snow day tomorrow, so expect another chapter.**

**And someone PLEASE tell me if they think this story sucks or what?  
**


	23. Puppy

**Hello readers! yeah, aboot the last chappie - friends Scoffy and Kira liked to ride thier bikes down this hill really fast, and as they did it, they always yelled "MALE BONDING!", though both are chicks. I thought it was funny. Well, I won't ask for reviews - I know the button is broke - but if anyone has concerns, they can PM me, n'kay? Happy reading!**

*************

The tremors stopped after a few minutes, and I peeked over the edge. There was something down there, and now I knew I had to down there.

"I'm going back down there," I said. "One of you has to lower me down this time. And if I shout, pull me the fuck back up before the damn thing eats me."

"What?" an agent shouted. "Did you _feel_ that? It's going to totally devour you!"

"I'm doing this now, while I still think it's a good idea," I shrugged, and held up my shaky hands. "And while I still have adrenaline to spare."

"That's the stupidest idea I've ever heard!" Daimio shouted at me. "You're gonna get yourself killed!"

"I've been lucky so far," I pointed out. I began to rig up the rappeling harness to be more like a four-point harness, so my body was more centered instead of the rope tugging at my thighs. "And who knows? Maybe the monster's nice and is going back to sleep!"

A minor tremor put an end to the idea, but I was gonna fo it anyway. I hooked the rope to the harness, and hooked a flashlight and my radio to parts of the harness I could reach.

"I'm trustin' you guys to keep me alive, you know," I said conversationally to the agents in charge of lowering me down and pulling me up.

"Don't worry, Jink, thay won't drop ya," Daimio assured me. "Promise."

"Great," I muttered as I was lowered down.

I have to say, the ride was quick and smooth. No jerkiness or slow spots whatsoever. What do these people do before they come to the BPRD? And for another question, do they all live there? It's creepy getting up at 2 AM to get a drink of water from the kitchen and finding other agents there staring at me.

So anyway, after about three hundred feet or so of being lowered on the rope, I hit the cavern. Like, one side of the crack was (basically) smooth, while the other one went down a bit until it stopped, and created the cavern. The crack went down farther, but the dragon-monster was here in the cavern. I could tell - its purple eyes were watching me.

"Hey guys?" I whispered into the radio, "Stop right here. I found him. Big guy, too."

"Jink, be careful!" Daimio warned. "I don't wanna hafta explain to Manning why you're missing aleg or some shit like that!"

I ignored the radio and called out, "Hello?"

_Her._

"What?" I called. I scratched at my ear - it sounded like whatever the monster was was whispering right in my ear.

_I am a female, not a him, and _certainly_ not a 'guy', as you put it._

"Whoa!" I said loudly. "Are you-"

_Telepathic? Yes, I am. I am unable to make the noise that you humans call talking - besides, it is beneath my dignity to even try to._

"So, who are you?" I called out.

_I have no name you mortals would recognize. _

"So are you a dragon?"

_Yes, I am of the draconian race. And I know you are human - nothing can describe that oder. But, there is somethin else about you - the smell of burning copper. What _is_ that?_

"I have the power to control electricity," I called back, holding up a hand and demonstrating by make a few sparks and crackles.

_Ah, a child of Elektra, then. I should have been able to tell by your prefference of black. Tell me, child, what year is it?_

"It's been 2010 for a few months now," I said. "How long have you been down here, if I may ask?"

_I've been in this cursed ground since the age of man's belief in God, child. How does it look up there now?_

"Well, it's full of people," I began, "And this things called cars - a powersource makes wheels move so humans can go faster - and there's iPods, and MP3's, and television sets, and-"

_Can I go see it?_

"Uh, you might be a _little_ too big for that," I said slowly. "And most people wouldn't be too happy seeing a huge dragon coming out of the ground . . . ."

_And who said I would be large?_

There was a sound of the ground cracking, another tremor, a whish of wind, and the sound of flapping wings. Out of the darkness came a figure, and I knew it was the dragon. She was bat-like in appearances, with no front legs and hand-like wings, but a long serpintine neck led up to a longish face and triangular ears. Her back legs were short and stayed close to her body in flight, but her tail was swinging out, like it was helping her keep balance.

And she was the size of a dog.

As she got closer, she shrunk a little more, and by the time she landed on my shoulder, she was the size of a large cat, and weighed a bit less than one.

_I am coming with you, child_, she said, speaking to my mind.

"Whoa, you can change your size?" I asked in disbelief.

_I can't change how these humans percieve me, but If I am smaller, maybe they shall like me better._

"Okay," I shrugged, and radioed back up top. "Hey guys, you can pull me back up."

"Jink! I thought I told you to be careful!"

"Good God, man, _how_ old am I? I think I can handle going into a deep crevice without having you worry like a mother hen!"

There was a crackle of radio static, and I heard him again. "The men say that the rope is heavier. What are you bringing back up with you?"

"It's more of a _who_," I said slowly. "Don't worry, you'll see when we get back up there."

They began to pull me back up the crack.

_Who are these people you talk to?_ She nudges my radio with her snout. _And what is this little box?_

"The people are who I work with," I explained. "They think that I'll hurt myself down here. And the little box is a way to commuinicate with them from far distances. It's called a two-way radio."

_And why do they fear that you would hurt yourself, young one? You seem strong, and you have great power._

"I've done so in the past," I explained. I let go of the rope and showed her the scars on my wrist. "I've had a rough couple months," I said quietly.

Quick as a flash, she whipped a wing out and smacked the back of my head.

"OW," I said louldy. "What the hell was that for?"

_For being a selfish child and trying to take yourself away from your family_.

I was going to say that I DIDN'T have a family, but I stopped - because I _did_. It was weird and dysfunctional (as dysfunctional as cat and dog locked in a bathroom), but it was a family nonetheless.

"I know," I said quietly. "It was a stupid act done in the emotion of the moment, and I regret even trying."

_That's better_.

As we neared the surface, we could see the light. And in the light, I could see the dragon was a deep royal purple.

"Ebony," I said at once.

_Excuse me?_

"I was thinking that you should have a name we could call you, and Ebony just hit me," I explained.

_Ebony is a term for black, which I am not_.

"Yeah, but do you want to be named Violet, or after some other purple flower? Besides, Ebony has that edge to it. What do ya say?"

_Ebony sounds fine, child, but of what name do I call you?_

"People call me Jink," I introduced myself. "I wasn't born with the name, but the people who found me started calling me that, so it stuck."

_So Jink, daughter of Elektra, we are going upwards to people whom you work with?_

"Yepperstrudels!" I said excitedly.

_I can hear one of them now. He doesn't sound too happy._

I paused and listened, and it was true - Daimil had started yelling down at me from the opening.

"Yeah, that's Captain Ben Daimio," I said. "He's like that."

We reached the edge of the crack, and as I climbed over and stood, Ebony flew from my shoulder and flew in circles until I was standing, when she landed back on my shoulder.

"WHAT THE HELL IS THAT!?!?!" Daimio shouted, pulling up a gun.

"NO!" I shouted, shocking the gun out of his hands. "_This_ is Ebony, the dragon that was down there.

Ebony bobbed her head in a dragon bow. _Pleased to meet you, Captain._

"Is it telepthic or something?" he spat, picking up his gun again. "And I thought it was _huge_."

"Yes, _she_ is," I spat back. "And she can change her size! Ain't that neat-o?"

"What . . . ?" he caught a glimpse of my expression. "No! We are _NOT_ GONNA KEEP IT!"

"Puh-leeeeeeez?" I pleaded. "She's small and smart! She can help! Besides, I don't think that Manning would want us to leave her here! _Pleeeeeeeez?"_

"Fine," he spat. "But _you_ have to explain to Manning where she came from, not _me_."

"Yeah!!!!" I jumped for joy, causing Ebony to jump up and land on my head.

_What was that all about? Who is Manning?_

"Manning's the boss," I explained. "And Daimio doesn't want to get in trouble with him."

_Why would he get into trouble?_

"Manning's not known for loving new people."

Greg walked up and looked at Ebony. She must've asked him a question, because he pulled out his cards and scribbled an answer down. She peered at it, and seemed to nod in understanding.

Greg pulled out another card and wrote, "Just like a fiv-year-old with a puppy."

*************

**Yep! Just like me and my doggie Jax! Okay, the chapter that goes out after this one is dedicated to Zipper, since it WAS her idea. So, yeah, just saying that now - I'm in the middle of writing it. HAPPY DAYS!**


	24. The Past Ain't Through With You

**Hello, peeps! Another chapter! it means I wuves you! Okey-dokey, Zipper, this is your idea - somewhat. I just tweaked it a bit. This chap's for you! cause You rock my socks and make me do a happy dance when you update!**

*************

"Uhg, I can't believe that I'm being dragged back into the sewer," I groaned to myself. "This sucks. No scratch that - this sucks _ass_. I hate sewers."

I recalled the last time I went in the sewers . . . with Roger. Yeah, I can find memories in almost eveything these days. The therapists tell me this is a good thing, but they think that EVERYTHING is good compared to suicide. And trust me, there are times when suicide still does seem like a great idea, but I'm not gonna tell my shrinks THAT.

"What'd I tell ya _last_ time?" Daimio sighed irritably. "Ya need to stop whining."

Gregory flipped a card: "He's right, you know."

Abe shined a light on me from behind. "Same here - you need to stop complaining so much. You keep telling us you're an adult, so start acting like one."

"Wow, what am I supposed to do, start a sing-a-long?" I snapped. "_Oh, if you were gay, that'd be okay! Cause I'd be like, "Hey! I'd like you anywaaaaay!" . . . "_

"Stop!" Abe and Daimio shouted at me.

I stopped singing all for about two seconds before I started again with, "_I'm soooo happy, I can barely breathe! Puppy dogs and sugar frogs and kittens baby teeth! Watch out all you mothers, I'm happy as hardcore - happy as a cupone for a twenty dollar whore-"_

"STOP!" Daimio shouted.

"Fine," I snap. "BE that way. Thought at least _one_ of you would be on my side, but _noooooooo_. I'm guess I'm flyin' solo, bay-beeeee!"

"Jink, shut up," Abe snapped back. "Just . . . _be quiet_, okay?"

I shut my mouth and walked along silently. There's nothing like the people you consider family telling you to shut up and grow up that makes your heart twist. You'd think they'd get over it (eventually), and that growing up with half these people would lesson the blow, but it don't. It's like Superman telling his fans to get lost. Or the brother you idolize telling you to fuck off. It's saddening. I wish Ebony was here.

Ebony really fits in at the Bureau. Manning threw a fuss (we were expecting that one), but it the end, she got to stay. She chills inside with us, but most of the time, she sleeps outside in the trees and rolling hills - prefers it over Manning's idea (coughcagecough).

She didn't want to come with us - _I think I spent enough time underground_ were her exact words - and I don't blame her. Who wants to be stuck in a sewer system full of crap and people? Not _me_, that's for sure. But I had no choice, cause this was my job and crap like that.

So _that's_ why I'm in the sewer.

I sighed and fiddled with my knife. After the last sewer adventure (with the little squirt bottle), I insisted that I get something to defend myself with. No guns still - no surprise there - but they did relent on the suicide watch and handed me this dagger-like knife. Of course, this was all right before I left, so I didn't even get to make a BLT, but that's first on my list when we get back. I still have to go to therapy, however - the win was bittersweet.

There was a scrabbling sound, and I paused. Instead of following the flow of agents, I walked up to a wall and very carefully leaned against it. Yep, that's where the scrabbling was coming from. Surprised Greg didn't hear it - he's usually good with these type of things.

But he was right there behind me, confirming that I wasn't just hearing things. His antennae twitched in a nervous way, and I felt my body freeze.

_There must be a _lot.

"Hey, uh, Daimio?" I called, running to catch up with him. Yeah, word of the wise - running and sewers don't go together well. It's like running in filthy crap water. Not only is it nasty gross, but then it gets all over you, and you're soaked in crap.

"Jink, I thought we told you to _be quiet_," Daimio snarled.

"No, seriously, there's something I need to tell ya-" I tried to say it quietly - who knows how close that other tunnel is.

"Not _now!"_ he said forcefully.

And that's when the frogs decided to pop up. Right through the wall me and Greg heard 'em from. Hundreds of them. Nice, eh? And here I am, trying to be nice, and I get treated like shit. Uh-huh, let's see what happens next time.

I lash out, slicing frogs and shocking them to make sure they stay down. Mostly, thought, I go after frogs who have agents. That's me - Supergirl of the BPRD. There's only one casualty so far - no chance of saving him, cause he's missing his head there - and I'm counting this one good.

I check them out - Abe's keeping his ground, Greg's chilling from the ceiling and getting the frogs from the ceiling, Daimio's being attacked by a mountain of frogs . . . .

Whoa, hold the phone! I did a double take - yep, he's waving his hand for help. Instinctively I went into action, slicing frogs along the way. Once I get to the mountain of frogs, I manage to kill enough to dig them aside and get Daimio out. He's out for the count, and has a wicked scratch down his arm. Yikes.

"Dammit, you'd best wake up!" I shout at him, keeping frogs at bay. They see him on the ground and think "OMG FREE MEAL!" and stop attacking others and come after us.

"GODDAMIT IF YOU DON'T GET UP I SWEAR TO GOD I'M GONNA TELL EVERYONE ABOUT YOUR SHOES!" I shouted, trying to stop as many frogs as possible. With a snarl, I threw the knife down on the ground and picked up Daimio's gun, and shot into the mob. I wasn't too good of an aim - for every three shots I made, one of them was far off the mark - but I got enough for the crowd to disperse.

Once the gun was empty, I was gonna let lose enough to shock the last of them, but I had to do it one by one - if I did a full-on shock, I probably would've killed Daimio. And that's not a good thing. I did pretty good keeping the frogs away from him, but I didn't fare so well - one of the frogs got me from behind before I could shock his ass. I ended up with a good-sized bump and a slice down my back. Don't worry - I got it.

I crouched down next to him, and shook his shoulder. "Dude, wake the FUCK up!" I ordered. "Nu-uh. No way. If _I_ don't get a nap, then neither do _you_. Wake your bum-ass up, Daimio!"

He gave a twitch and a mutter, and barely cracked open his eyes.

"I swear, dude, you best get your ass up off the ground," I growled. When he didn't get up, I sighed and bent down to his level. I managed to get one arm around him, and threw his unhurt arm over my shoulder. Once I was sure I wasn't gonna fall over from the effort, I lifted him up so he was (somewhat) on his feet.

"Dammit, man, you're fucking heavy!" I grunted, halfway dragging him to a medic. He mumbled something incoherent, and I gasped, "What?!?!"

"Shouldn't . . . be here . . . Sam . . . " he mumbled.

"Who the hell is Sam?" I asked quietly, and I stopped walking. "That your sister?"

"Sorry, Jink," He shook his head, like he was confused. "Got lost there for a second. Thought you were her."

"Nice, buddy-boy. Can you walk?"

He tried to life himself off of me, but stumbled, and would have made a total face-plant if I hadn't caught him.

"I'll take that as a no," I muttered, helping him to the medic. He tried to push me away, but I kept my hold on him so he didn't fall over. He grumbled at me some more - sounded like he was cussing me out - but I didn't press him this time.

Once he had a medic working on him, he looked over at me and asked, "How's Gregor?"

"Who?" I asked, confused. _Who the hell is Gregor - his brother?_

"I mean Greg - the bug," he elaborated. "_You_ know who I'm talkin' about."

"Greg's fine," I said slowly, narrowing my eyes in suspicion. "Nothin' worse than a scratch."

"What about you?"

"Peachy keen, jellibean*," I replied and shrugged. I reached to the back of my head to rub the goose-egg that was beginning to show, and check for blood on the scratch. "Nothin' I haven't dealt with before."

"Meaning . . . " he trailed off.

"Bump on the noggin and a cut along the spine."

"Why ain't the medics looking at you?" he tried to wave off the people trying to stitch up his arm.

"I'm not calling people by my dead sister's name," I reminded him.

"What? No way," he denied.

"Remember, Benny-boy, 'You can hide alot about yourself, but honey what are you gonna do?/ And you can sleep in a coffin, but the past ain't through with you'**."

"You and your quotes," he scoffed. "It's stupid."

I walked up to him and leaned in closer.

"But as serious as a heart attack," I whispered.

*************

**Okay, a few notes: the first song is IF YOU WERE GAY from Avenue Q, and second is THE HAPPY SONG by Lyam Lynch. **

***V For Vendetta: The Comedy Series**

****Kill All Your Friends by MCR.**

**So yeah, guys, keep on rockin' my socks! Give me strength and I'll give you wings!**

***cry* I'm sad. In **_**BPRD: Killing Ground**_**, Cap'n Daimio DIES. And I'm all disappointed. *moo* **

**I'm off to write the next chapter . . .**

**~Izzy, whose pants got stolen by Roger (wtf? I thought he was dead . . .)**


	25. Heart SafetyPinned To His Backpack

**Hey guys! OMG another chapter! Ha ha ha! Aren't you excited? I am - so happy reading, my loves!**

*************

"_He wears his heart safety-pinned to his backpack. His backpack is all that he knows,"_ I sang, sewing the rip in my shirt. "_Shot down by strangers whose glances can cripple the heart and devour the soul . . ."_

I stopped as the iPod went on, and looked at my shirt. I was working out in the gym and I twisted wrong and the shirt tore. I sighed and continued to sew - this was my favorite shirt, and it smelled like bacon and ample syrup. No way in hell was I gonna let someone throw it away.

"_All alone, he turns to stone, while holding his breath half to death. Terrified of what's inside to save his life, he crawls like a worm from the bird . . "_

Why did it smell like bacon and maple syrup? I made fake blood a while back and doused myself in it, and the stain (and the smell) never came out. It looks really cool that way - streaks and splatters of bloody red that look like actual blood.

Oh man, the fun I had with that fake blood. I put some in the fridge, some in a couple of bathrooms, and Manning's chair when he wasn't looking. Oh, the screams, the fainting, the accusations . . . . only when they tested it and found it to be fake did I get in trouble. Grounded for a month without a TV - I lived, espescially since it was the greatest thing in the world.

Once the stitching was done, I shook it out and looked at the stitches. Sure, they were a little crooked and uneven, but it worked for my purpose.

I tossed my shirt onto my bed and pulled out a pair of pants with a tear on the ass. No rest for the wicked - wicked awesome, that is.

Just as I started, my radio buzzed, making me twitch and jab myself. With a sigh, I picked it up and pressed the button. "'Ello, you have reached the Jink Hotline. What's on your mind, monkeybutt?"

"Jink, it's Abe. We need you up here."

"Up _where_?"

"The com room."

"Why, exactly? You told me - after the Dr. Pepper mishap - that I wasn't allowed in there anymore."

"I need your help with something."

"Oh, wow, I'm going into shock - call the medics."

"Seriously, Jink, I really do need your help."

"Gimme five minutes, and I'll be there. And may the Force be with you."

"Please, Jink, none of your games."

"I'm not playing - seriously, use the Force. It helps alot."

"Just get down here."

I sighed as I clipped the radio to my belt and put my pants to the side. They could wait for another time, I guess. I waltzed down the hallway barefoot - the floor was smooth enough not to agitate my feet. My feet slipped along the smooth floor, and a marvelous idea hit me. I took a running start and skid on my feet. I went a good twenty paces before my foot snagged and I stumbled.

"_Nice,_" I nodded. I did it again. I went farther. I grinned, and did it oone more time. This time, I skid past the com room, and in my efforts to stop, I fell over. I hit the floor with a thud. It took a second for me to get my wind back, but I was up and laughing, saying, "I'm okay!"

Abe had come out of the com room when he saw me skid past, and now he was shaking his head. He motioned for me to follow him, and I skid my way to the room.

"There's this book, and it's in Latin," Abe explained, motioning to a large, moldy book that was falling apart. "Kate told me that you studied Latin and Spanish, so I thought that you could help."

"Don't you know Latin?" I asked, perplexed.

"My Latin is rusty," he said simply. "It would work better if _you_ did it."

"Fine," I said primly, and bent over the tome, careful not to touch it. "Says 'To those who find this book, be warned - a curse follows all who reads this tome. You have been warned.' Wow, I don't think that whoever wrote this wanted you to read it."

"Well, I'm thinking so," Abe sighed, sounding tired. "So far, you're the only one who's been able to read it."

"Joy to me," I mumbled, and flipped through the pages. I stopped at one and read a few lines. "HOLY SHITASTIC HOOKERS BATMAN!"

"Holy shitastic hookers?" Abe asked. "What is it?"

"Okay, um, the only thing I can compare this to is this comic called _Runaways_," I explained slowly and dumbfoundedly, "They have this group of kids, and like, their parents are this group of villains called The Pride, and the kids find out, and-,"

"Get to the point!" Abe snapped.

"Well, they have this book called the Abstract, and it details the Pride's movement - both past, present - _and future_."

"What does that have to do with this?" he asked slowly.

"_That's what this is!"_ I hissed, starting to panic. "_It's like a fucking Abstract for the BPRD!"_

"Impossible," he scoffed. I grabbed his arm and shoved him next to the book and read the passage I had read over. "_Meanwhile, at the BPRD, some of the agents are struggling with the loss of the homunculus. The fire-starter takes his room as her own, while the merman struggles to take his place on the roster. The daughter of Elektra, however, is taking the hardest. The thoughts of suicide are blossoming in her mind-,"_

"Okay, that's enough," Abe said, stepping back.

"That thing is fucking creepy," I said, glaring at it. "Let's get Liz to burn it."

"No, we can't do that," Abe said, slamming the book shut. "We have to lock it up somewhere."

"And what's with these people and this whole 'daughter of Elektra' crap?" I snapped. "It's starting to piss me off."

"Talk to Ebony - she might know," Abe suggested.

"What - I can't hang out here?" I smiled. "Or are you still afriad that I'll spill Dr. Pepper on everything?"

"Come back later - I'm busy now," he said evaisively. Sighing, I left him to his work.

*************

"Ebony, what did you mean by 'daughter of Elektra'?"

I had found her on a grassy hill, chomping on a squirrel. She's about the size of a pony, and the remains of other small animals litter the ground. I'm afraid to get to close, so I sit to her left, within her eyesight, but out of reach of the bloody squirrel guts.

_You mean no one has explained this to you, child?_

"No, ma'am. I've heard it a few times, and now it's piqued my curiosity. What does it mean?" She got pissed at me the first time I called her 'dude', and threatened to bury me in a hole. Now, I call her ma'am.

_Child, when the goddess Elektra passed from the material world to the next plane, she passed her gift to her daughter. And when _she_ passed to the next world, she passed the gift to _her_ daughter. On and on the cycle went, until it has come down to you. Sure, there are those who _claim_ to be you, but their powers are ill-gotten. You are the only descendant of Elektra, and just as she passed it on, so shall you. _She chewed a bone, spat it out, and attacked another.

"But I wasn't _born_ with it," I pointed out. "I got struck by lightning when I was a child. And my mother abandoned me right afterwords. So how can I be this whole 'descendant of Elektra' person everyone thinks I am?"

_Ah, but therein lies the truth. Elektra struck you with her powers in that bolt of lightning, to awaken _your_ powers. It was her way of making sure you got the gift - it must have been passed to you by your father._

"I don't know who that bastard was," I fumed. "He walked out when I was two. Good riddence to crappy shit, I guess."

_If you look in the Tome, it will tell you who he is._

"So it's called the Tome, eh?" I asked. "Huh. No, I don't feel the need to meet my sperm doner. I'm good."

_You don't know how it may affect you. You're afraid of what would happen to you._

"No! Yes! Uh, may-bay!" I said quickly. "But how can _you_ know all that?"

_You wear your heart on your sleeve, child. Or, to recall those lyrics, you wear your heart safety-pinned to your backpack. You're easy to read._

"Show-off," I muttered good-naturdly, and scractched her right behind her ear, exactly how she likes it.

*************

I walked back into the com room, and Abe turned in his chair.

"What did Ebony say?" he asked.

"I'm the super-great-great granddaughter of a goddess of lightning. My dah passed it to me, and if I want to find out who he is, I can read the moldy book and find out." I collapsed into a chair, and leaned back in it.

"Sounds like a lot," he replied. "Want to talk about it?"

"Only if it stays in this room," I said slowly.

He nodded, and I said, "I never wondered who my dah was. I assumed he was a dick and I was better off without him. I don't want to meet him and find out he's cool and he had a good reason to leave. Or that he left my mom for some bottle blonde who's half his age."

"I'm sure a lot of people your age feel that way," Abe reasoned.

"Yeah, but he may try to insert himself into my life because of where I am," I pointed out. "Saying things like, "oh, I'm your dah, so you should throw money my way. Since I'm your sperm doner, I get a cut of whatever money you make". Or, my favorite, "Since I'm your dah, you have to listen to me, though I left you and your mom for chick who's got more money than you'll ever see." I'm not doin' that."

"You seem so set against this, and you've never even met the guy," Abe mused, watching me with a critical eye. "May explain why you don't like new people . . ."

"Thanks," I said dryly, smiling. "Nice to know you noticed."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he snapped.

"You don't talk to me unless you're yelling at me or you need my help," I said quietly, "So I've always assumed that you didn't really care for me. No need to snap."

Abe paused. "It's not that I don't like you," he said slowly, "It's just that you're a young person, and I'm . . . I'm not. I don't get your jokes, I don't understand your way of thinking. It has nothing to do with you as a person."

"Aw, I'm touched," I grinned. "And here I thought you just didn't plain like me."

"Nope."

"Ah. I see. So can I bring you some Dr. Pepper?"

"Not in your life."

*************

**Ah, another day, another chapter . . . or two . . . anyways, the song Jink was singing was THE BIRD AND THE WORM by The Used. And just so you know, I own not the name Elektra, RUNAWAYS, or the Abstract. All are owned by marvel. And trust me, if I owned BPRD, I think that there'd be a few changes. **

**Yeah, so happy days, folks. Keep on truckin', start a revolution, do a barrel roll, wh'ever boats your float.**

**~Izzy, who stole her pants back XD!**


	26. Cold Medicine

**Hey guys! Another chapter! Love to you all! This one is another one of Zipper's ideas. but with my insideous twist. So, yeah, review, . . . um, I forgot what I was going to say . . . **

*************

I woke up feeling like crap - nose stuffed, eyes glues shut, and all shaky and shivery. I didn't want to get up. But my throat hurt, and my mouth felt dry, so I forced myself up to go to the kitchen. As I got up, the shivering subsided, and I was able to walk, somewhat. I had to wipe my eyes on my sleeve to clear the gunk out so I could walk straight.

I didn't change out of my pajama pants. The thought of switching from my warm flannel pants to cold jeans made my body ache just thinking about it. I padded down the hallway barefoot, wincing at the coldness of the floor. My head as pounding, and everything hurt like a bitch.

I walked into the kitchen, wincing at the bright light. Liz and Johann were in there talking, Liz holding a cup of steaming coffee. _Mmmmm . . . coffee,_ I thought. Just the thought of something steamy and warm made my body shiver, but I stopped myself from doing so.

"Hey, Jink," Liz waved. "Wow, you look like crap."

I opened the fridge and pulled out a can of Dr. Pepper. "I'm fine," I said darkly, but with my stuffed-up nose, it sounded like _Ibm fined._ I cracked open the pop and took a tentative sip. Just as I pulled the can away, I got cold. _Really, really_ cold. So cold, I started shivering. Well, not as shivering as say, oh, random twitchy convulsions. It waas bad enough I had to set my can on the counter before it spilled all over my hand. But I was having trouble trying to set it straight down.

"Whoa!" Liz explaimed, grabbing the can from my hand and setting it down. "You alright?"

"J-J-Just-t-t c-c-c-cold-d-d," I stuttered, wrapping my arms around myself. "_R-R-R-Really _c-c-c-cold-d-d-d."

She lay a hind on my forehead - like a mom would, actaully - and winced as she pulled it back. "Damn, Jink, you're burning up."

"T-T-Then w-w-why am-m I s-s-s-so c-c-c-cold-d-d?" I asked, teeth chattering.

"Sounds like the flu, yes?" Johann suggested. "The shivers, the fever, the feeling of being cold . . . yes, it all fits."

"G-G-G-Great-t-t-t," I shivered.

"Go to the infirmary," Liz ordered. "Get some medicine or something. I think Ben's already down there, all hopped up on cough syrup."

I tried to laugh, but ended up coughing so bad I almost fell over.

"Just go already!" Liz said firmly. I waved her off as I staggered out of the room.

*************

Uhg. It took me forever to get to the infirmary. I had to lean against the wall a couple of times. Sure, the wall was fucking cold, but it was either that or the floor, and I still had my dignity. By the time I got there, my headache had exploded to an ax stroke to the noggin with every step. I held my hand over my face to sheild myself from the evil thing called light.

One of the doctor people walked up to me, and asked, "Flu?"

I whimpered and nodded. She pulled out a bottle of pinkish fluid and a plastic measuring spoon. She poured the medicine until it reached the brim of the spoon, and motioned for me to open up and swallow. I gulped the nasty crap down, and shook my head, the taste making me gag.

"Go sit by the captain over there while it takes hold," she ordered. "Then you can go back to your room."

"Why do I gotta stay here?" I demanded.

"This stuff makes people loopy, and I don't want you chasing imaginary bunnies or something," she explained.

I shrugged (and winced), and made my way to the chair. And who do I see there, other than Captain Ben Daimio. Oh, man, if _he's_ got the flu, then Hell musta froze over - he's told us that's the only way he can get sick.

I sat down next to him, sneezed and coughed, and said, "Wassup, Daimio? Hell froze over already?" I sounded thick, tahnks to a stuffy nose.

"I _finally_ figured it out," he told me, sounding all spacy. "The _answers_ to the _universe_."

"Oh yeah?" I pulled my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms around my legs to keep warm. "What is it?"

He motioned me closer, and whispered: "_Pie._"

"Pi?" I asked, "Like, 3.141592?"

"No, silly, _pie_," he elaborated. "Can't you see it? It's the shape of the universe! When the pie gets eaten, the universe ends! It's so _simple!"_

"Wow," I said slowly, grinning. _Man, I wish I had a camera! Or at least a voice recorder!_

"Groovy, dude," I clapped him on the shoulder. I gave another cough, and rested my head on my knees. "_God,_ I hate being sick."

"Who said you're sick?" Daimio asked. "You just ate a bottle of acid, Jinkies. You're screwed."

"What?" I nearly shrieked. "They fed me _acid?!?!"_

"Yeah - you didn't know that?" he seemed surprised.

"Noooo," I said, getting teary-eyed. "I'm gonna _die?_"

"Sorry, babe, but it's true," he said sadly. "But you have only yourself to blame. _You're_ the one who let them feed you a bottle of it."

"But I don't _wanna_," I whimpered. "What about Jareth? Who's gonna take care of him?"

He paused, and jumped up. "TO THE BATMOBILE, ROBIN!" he said loudly, turning heads in our direction.

"HOLY HOOKERS, BATMAN, LET'S GO!" I jumped up, too, and off we went.

*************

"Oh, my _head_," I groaned, shifting in my bed. I can't really remember too much, but I do recall something about cough medicine, but after that everything else is a blur. I sat up, wincing at the full body ache and how the cold seemed to seap into my bones. I got out of bed, wrapped myself in my Chevrolet blanket, and made my way to the kitchen. Along the way, there were agents, and they were _laughing_ at me. Such an odd sensation.

"What the hell?" I muttered. I tightened the blanket around my shoulders. As i walked into the kitchen, there was a a small laughed before it was choked off - most likely by a smart person without a death wish.

Greg walked up to me, and pulled out a card, "Hey, Jink. Get a good night's sleep?"

"No," I growled crossly. "I felt like I got hit by a truck. I _hate_ being sick."

"You remember anything from yesterday?" 'Remember' and 'Yesterday' were underlined multiple times.

"I remember cough medicine, and that's it," I shrugged painfully. "Why?"

"You and daimio got hopped up on this new cough syrup, and went around pretending to be Batman and Robin. Most found it really funny, but the regulars know that if they mentioned it, you'd fry them and Daimio would probably shoot them."

"What?" I asked quietly. "N-Nothin', like, _bad_ . . . oh God . . . "

New note card: "No, just you running around, saying 'Holy hookers, Batman!', and trying to prove that we all poisoned you in your sleep."

"Good," I snapped.

"Glad I can't get the flu anymore." God, if he could have a smug, smiley, happy face, he was wearing it now.

"Shut up, Gregory," I groaned and lay my head on a wall. "This can't get any worse."

"Yo - Jink." Daimio walked into the kitchen, an ice-pack on his head. "You remember anything from yesterday?"

"No," I moaned, covering my face. "Crrrrrrap."

*************

**Remember, if you overdose over cold medicine, you'll end up like Jink, going around saying, "Holy Hookers, Batman!" There won't be a chapter for a few days (me got super homework . . . *shudder*), but there will be another one by Friday, at least. KEEP ME IN YOUR THOUGHTS - HOMEWORK SUX! Oh, and in case you didn't hear, MIKE MIGNOLA IS PLANNING ON BRINGING ROGER BACK TO LIFE! So I gotta do something involving that . . . .**

**~Jink**


	27. Go Ahead And Prove Me Wrong

**Hey guys! new Chapter! Sorry if it jumps around a little bit - i've got some SIADD - School Induced Attention Deficit Disorder. I've tried to make it stay as true as possible to the _BPRD: Garden Of Souls_ TPB, but it's kinda hard. But I wish you happy reading!  
**

* * *

Abe found me jogging on the treadmill in the gym. I had to keep it slow - I still got dizzy time to time, thanks to the damn flu I caught - but I was keeping up a steady pace. But when he came in, he had such a deafeted look about him I stopped the treadmill and asked, "Wassup, Abe? Someone steal your pants?"

"It's nothing," he said evasively. "Don't worry about it."

"Nothing my ass," I scoffed. "Spill it."

"Just an intriguing package," he shrugged. "Nothing for you to worry about."

He tried to leave the room, but I hopped off the treadmill, snuck up behind him, and managed to snag the package out of his hands. It was a silver-ish cigar case, engraved with the initials L.E.C. There were three cigars in it, but the way shook proved that more could be held.

"Whatever, if you don't like them, give it to Daimio," I suggested, tossing it back to him. "He likes those cancer sticks."

"But that's not all," he said quietly, "It came with a _map_."

And he spun me a tale almost worthy of Stephan King.

"So, lemme get this straight," I said slowly, "You used to be this guy - Langdon Everret Caul, until you and your mini-occult society peoples put you in a tube and you grew gills and forgot about them, and now they contact you to see if you're still this Caul-guy?"

"Yes, actually," Abe nodded.

"Insane," I shook my head. "Well, if we wanna get a jump on this, we need to have MAJOR fire-power. I need a gun."

"WHAT?" he nearly shouted. "What makes you think you're going?"

"You told me . . ." I said pointedly.

"Actually, I was looking for Ben," Abe explained.

"Great - he can come to," I smiled.

"Jink, you are NOT coming!" Abe said with finality. He tried to leave, but I planted myself in his way, and I was MAD.

"Remember what happened to _Roger_?" I hissed. "Went out after _frogs_ with twenty guys armed to the _teeth_. And some psycho killed almost all of them. You're plannin' on goin' with only one other guy? HELLS to the no."

He was shocked. He took a step back in surprise.

"Please - I could never forgive myself if something bad happened," I sighed, crossing my arms.

"Fine," he sighed defeatedly. "You can go. Okay?"

"Good," I gave a nod, but then tilted my head to the side. "Where we goin'?"

* * *

I stepped out of the shower, and after making sure no one was in my room, I stepped out to get dressed. My night clothes were a pair of shorts and a tank-top. It was hot. Like, REALLY hot. You know, I kind of expected heat in Indonesia - hence the shorts instead of flannel pants - but I didn't think it'd be THIS hot.

Whoa, time warp! Yeah, I'm in Indonesia, with Abe and Daimio, looking for these people who are looking for him. Insane. Today, we sat on the docks. Our hotel overlooks the ocean. I still wish I knew what we were looking for.

I pulled a sheet of the bed and spread it out on the floor. No way in hell I was gonna sleep in that bed - it smelled like spices. And the smell was beginning to make me woozy.

Yep, as the only girl, I got my own room. Daimio got kinda pissed when he found out I was going - don't know why he even _wanted_ to go - but he got over it. Not much of an adventure - like I've said, we've been sitting on the dock for a full day now. Not much hanging about. Got a game of cards going, but Daimio told me point-blank, "If you start to strip, I'm gonna shoot ya myself."

I covered myself in this sheet, making sure that part of it was between me and the crusty carpet. And just before I fell asleep, I thought I saw a cat's shadow flit across the wall.

* * *

"Wake her up."

"Hell no."

"Don't worry - she's too groggy to hurt anybody, let alone you."

"Why can't _you_ do it?" There was a sigh and a shuffling of feet. "You got my back if she tries to get me, right?"

"She's not gonna get you. Just shake her shoulder and back away. Fast."

Another shuffle, and the _barest_ of pressure pressed to my bare shoulder. I swatted it away - I was too tired. it happened again, except a wee bit harder. I swatted it away again. The last time, it was a shove.

Okay, I've had enough. I snagged whatever was hitting me and pulled it down to my level. I hit it with a pillow, lay my pillow on top of it, and replaced my head on the pillow. Ha, take that.

"Hey, Jink?" Wow, Daimio sounded _really_ close . . .

"Hmmmm?" I groaned. "No. Sleeping."

"Jink, you need to get up." _Abe?!?!_ Wow, what they hell are the guys doing in my room? I thought this was _my_ room!

"No," I yawned. "Too tired. Come back later. Five mo mins, mommay . . . ."

"Jink, you need to get up - or at least open you eyes," Daimio sighed, exasperated.

I squeezed my eyes tighter in defiance, but relented and opened them slowly.

Oh, wow. Um, this was really awkward. I had pulled Daimio on the floor and he was under my pillow. No wonder he sounded really close.

"You know, you totally are _not_ pillow material," I said conversationally. "Not soft enough. And _why the fuck are you guys in my room!?!?!?"_

"We did knock," Abe shrugged. "You didn't answer."

"IF I DON'T ANSWER, ASSUME I AM ASLEEP!" I said loudly, and pulled the sheet over my head. It was then I realized that I wasn't in my normal clothes, and I freaked. "GET OUT!"

"You need to get up first," Daimio said slowly. With another groan, I rolled away, making sure that the sheet hid me from sight. "Now get the FUCK out!" I growled.

There was a pounding of feet, and the door slammed.

"Peace at last . . . "

* * *

Man, have I mentioned how hot it was in Indonesia? Cause it is. I've had to ditch my total-black-long-pants dress to something more . . cool. I am _so_ glad I packed shorts. Camo shorts! And a tank top - also in camo. Yep, I was doing camo today. And I have to say, it was pretty nice lookin', too.

But I couldn't ditch the shoes. Black as they were, I might overheat, but shoes were shoes, and despite my comfort without them, there was GLASS and SPLINTERS in those streets, and no way in flaming hell was I gonna go around without shoes.

Toss on a hat (camo), some cool shades, and a dab of sunscreen, and I was totally ready for . . . . well, whatever the hell Abe was up to for the day. But here in sunshine-y heat, one can't go wrong with sunscreen.

I stepped out of my room and walked through the hallway, no one else around. I carefully made my down the stairs, careful of any rotting wood. I walked passed the front desk in the lobby (yeah right - it was a desk with a staricase on either side, and then you hit the door, barely any room to stand around in), and walked into the bright sunshine.

Now, I don't think I've mentioned it before, but I'm totally an inside person. Well, more of a night person. I can handle being outdoors, but I'm not a big fan of the sun. No offence to those who're all tan and loverly and all, but me and the sun have issues. And walking out into it today was like trying to stick needles into my head.

I walked the two blocks to the docks and found the guys in their normal spots: Abe sitting on a crate, watching the horizon, and Daimio sitting on another crate, watching people coming and going.

I went to the edge of the docks and sat down, peeling my shoes off to let my bare feet hang over the edge. Feels really good when the tide comes in. My toes barely skimmed the surface, signaling that the tide was on it's way in.

"Nice shorts," Abe commented.

"It's hot," I protested. "I wore my pants yesterday, and I nearly passed out. I think I'm allowed to wear shorts."

"Though I don't think you'd like the attention," Daimio said smugly. I turned to look, and just as he said, I was catching more stares than a woman in a string bikini at a nude beach.

"So what?" I shrugged. "It's not as if I can't defend myself." I lifted the hem of my shirt to show off the knife I had sheathed in my belt.

My feet were a little deeper in the water, and I grinned to myself. Electricity travels batter in salt water, and I felt like I was, like, _connected_ to the entire ocean. It felt great.

After an hour of sitting around, Daimio gave a sigh. "Day two of the know-nothing hunt," he said grumpily. "Would be _nice_ if I knew what we were lookin' for."

Abe said nothing.

"_Great_," Daimio said acidly.

"You don't have to be here, Captain," Abe began, but was cut off.

"_You invited me to come along!"_ Daimio snapped.

"He _does_ have a point," I pointed out. "_I_ was the one who wormed her way here, not him."

"I invited you because I thought you were a man's man - able to keep your own company well, and respect the privacy of others."

"Bullshit," Daimio spat. "Privacy has _nothing_ to do with it - this is a _mission_. I've left you alone, haven't said _word one_ since this whole littl goose chase started. You're right - I _don't_ have to be here."

He turned to leave, but Abe pulled out the little cigar case. "Captain, would you care for a cigar?" he asked cordially.

* * *

**OMG SORT OF A CLIFFHANGER! That is, if no one's read the comics . . . **

**I'm sorry if I hadn't been around - super homework, and even MORE tomorrow. I'll try to get it all done during lunch so I have more time to write this weekend. So, to all of you, I bid adieu. Oh, and the title came from BORN TO QUIT, by The Used (who are coming to concert, BUT NOT IN MY STATE, DAMMIT . . ). Keep me in your thoughts, pray I get my homework done, and all that jazz.**

**~Izzy**


	28. So Deep That I Didn't Even Bleed

**he ha ha ha ha! Another chapter! Have fun, readers.  
**

* * *

Once again, I was in my hotel room. It still stank like spices, it still had crusty carpet, and it still was hot. Outside my window, the sun had set, and you could see the lights of people's cars and houses, and just faintly hear people sounds - you know, like, talking, or a TV or something like that. But instead of sleeping, I was pacing. Back and forth, back and forth, on the crusty old carpet.

I had barely an idea of what we were here for. Abe had told Daimio about Caul, surprisingly, so he was now in the know. Still not sure of what we're looking for, but now everyone's on the same page.

I stopped pacing and stared out my window. Despite the lights, you could easily see the stars outside. I couldn't find my familiar constellations, but just seeing stars was good enough for me. I wondered vaguely what Daimio and Abe were doing.

Then I wanted to slap myself. Why the hell should _I_ care what they're doing? They're grown men, for Spark's sake! I think they can handle themselves without me worrying or wondering.

But they're my family. I've grown up with them, though in different ways. To not worry about them would be like a mom not worrying about her kids: it's wrong.

But they're GROWN MEN. You know how akward it is for a teenage girl to hang out with guys easily twice her age? The rumors are horrible. The BPRD veterans know how we roll, but the nubes are starting to piss me off. I can barely hang out with my family without one of them ruining it for me.

But why the hell should I care? They're jealous of my family. I've got people who love me, and actually care whether or not I live or die. They wouldn't understand my relationship with my family. I shouldn't expect them too.

. . . .Wow, I just had a total conversation with myself. Should I be worried here?

I sighed, and sat down on the bed. The springs groaned in protest, the mattress sagging weirdly. I fell back on it and stared up at the ceiling. Within seconds, I was asleep.

* * *

I opened my eyes slowly, not wanting to move. _What the hell woke me up?,_ I thought groggily. It must've been something important . . .

Someone pounded on the door.

Oh, that was why.

I jumped off the bed (wow, I slept on the _bed_? I gotta take a shower . . .) and ran to the door, yelling, "Who's there?"

"JINK, OPEN THE DAMN DOOR!" Ah, Daimio. Should've known.

I unlocked the door and opened it. "Yes?" I asked nicely. "Is there a reason you're shouting right now?"

"Is Abe in there?" he asked tersely.

"Yeah, he's hiding in my bathroom," I said sarcastically. "HELL NO, man! Why?"

"He's gone."

I gripped the door and leaned onto the doorframe. "You serious?" I asked faintly.

"As a heart attack."

I gripped the door so hard my knuckles turned white. The lightbulb that had been previously turned off flicked on and grew brighter and brighter until the bulb exploded. I let go of the door, and I proceeded to find clothes and get dressed. But let's not forget my little rant.

"I CAN'T BELIEVE THAT ASSHOLE HAD THE _AUDACITY_ TO RUN OFF IN THE MIDDLE Of THE NIGHT!!! WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH HIM!!?!?!?!?!?? GOD DAMMIT, WHEN I FIND HIM, HIS _ASS_ IS_ GRASS_!!!! LIKE, _FOOTBALL TURF!!!_"

I was on autopilot - when I was dressed, I was in all black, including the pants and wide-brimmed hat. I stalked out of my room, slamming the door behind me and locking it with jerky, angry movements. I stalked down the hallway, silently fuming.

"Where are YOU going?!?" Daimio shouted after me.

"I'M GONNA _FIND_ HIS ASS!" I shouted back. "And the FIRST place I'm goin' to is the DOCK!"

"You could search this address I found in his room!"

I ran back to him and looked at it. "How can I find it?" I asked.

"The police?" he shrugged.

I ran down the hall again, shouting, "THEN TO THE FUZZ!"

Daimio rant to catch up with me. I was pounding down the stairs, not slowing and jumping the last five stairs.

"You know, you and Abe are gonna be the death of me!" Daimio called out, trying not to trip down the stairs.

"DEAL WIT IT!" I shouted back.

* * *

"Look, sir, he's _missing_," I said pointedly. "I can't find this address, and we need to find him yesterday. Got it?"

Daimio translated to the cop, who was watching us with a bored expression. God, I hated cops. So uppity, thinks he's all that . . . wish I could fry him.

He responded slowly, and I may not be able to speak the language, but the tone of his voice was clear in _any_ language: _I don't need to listen to you, you're nothing but a pair of pedestrians._

Daimio didn't even pause to translate what he said - he fired of a retort so fast it was a word-blur.

"What?" I asked.

"He said that he has _'real'_ police work to do and that Abe's probably back at the hotel," Daimio snapped.

I growled and leaned forward into the guards face. "Maybe I wasn't _clear,_" I snarled. I pulled out my BPRD I.D. card. "I'm with the American government. We may not be able to find this address, but I can sure as hell find the U.S. Embassy." I let my hand spark and the radio on his desk began to spark and smoke. "And I have _ways_ of making life very _unpleasant_ for you."

He seemed shocked (no pun intended), and then stood up, yelling to the other cops.

"What's he doing now?" I snapped, crossing my arms.

"He's rallying the cops," he said slowly. "You know Jink, sometimes, you show me _exactly_ how scary you can be."

"_Good_," I replied. "Be afraid - be very afraid."

* * *

We 'borrowed' a police car, and followed a convoy. As we got closer and closer to the address, I felt my feelings of unease grow and grow. I didn't say anything about it - I was on a mission, and wild horses couldn't drag me away. The address happened to be a huge building with a number two on the side. This whole place had a bad vibe to it, but I was praying we would find Abe here.

The cops tried the 'nice way' by knocking, but after five minutes, I was losing my patience and motioned them to take a few steps back. Actually, I told them all to hide behind the police cars.

"You'd better listen to her!" Daimio yelled from behind a car. "She's not jokin'!"

Once I was sure everyone was sittin' tight, I let loose on the door. All that was left was a smear and some pieces of twisted metal.

One of the cops crossed himself and another muttered something, but I was too wrapped up in myself. I stepped over the smldering slag and peered into the warehouse.

"Holy mother . . " I muttered, "HE'S NOT HERE! **CRAPSHIT DAMN!"**

What _was_ there, however, was a machine. It was huge, and made from shiny brass. But the funny thing was that it looked like something from the 1800's. It looked old and new at the same time.

It was a bomb.

* * *

**CLIFFHANGER! Um, not really, but I tried XP**

**So, the title came from ALL THAT I'VE GOT by The Used. I'll try to have another chap up tomorrow, but I make no promises. So, um, happy days, don't do drugs, and try to review.**

**~Izzy, who's in pajama pants XD  
**


	29. All That I've Got

**hey y'all! Here's a new chappie for ya! now, I may not have a chapter up tomorrow - I have ten pages of notes to do and a review to write. But here's to you! And I have to say, what a blow we've made for the BPRD! I'm seeing a lot of people writing comic-verse stories instead of the usual Nuada/Nuala crap. I'm sorry, and I apologize to you all, but those elves are REALLY beginning to piss me off.**

**Oh well . . . on wit da show!  
**

* * *

Yep, it was totally a bomb. For us of the electrokinetic persuesion, the power that oozed out of it was a wave of energy trying to push people away. I immediately loathed the machine. I knew it had something to do with all this Caul crap and Abe, but I didn't know how. It was beginning to piss me off, putting me in a fouler mood than when I came. Damn.

"No one touch anything!" I said loudly, walking up to the bomb.

"The reason for that being . . . . ?" Daimio asked, following me on my walk.

"It's a bomb," I stated simply.

"WHAT?"

"Yeah, I know," I shrugged. "How the hell did it _get_ here? And who did it?"

"No, how did you know _it was a bomb?_" Wow, if Daimio was a chick, I'd say he was PMS-ing. He needs to stop the drugs or whatever is making him have mood swings like that.

"Power's leaking out of the fucker worse than sand in an hourglass. _I thought I just told you not to touch it!_" I shouted at two cops. They jumped back, acting like they weren't doing anything, but I saw those hands.

One of the head cops shouted something at Daimio. "What's the ass want now?" I sighed, exasperated.

"He wants to know who died and put you in charge," Daimio said, trying (in vain) to keep a straight face.

"Tell 'im he's next if he don't stay outta meh way," I snapped. "I'm not in the mood to deal wit his crap right now."

I put a hand on the machine, trailing my hand across it as I walked. At once, I felt a snag on what should have been a smooth piece of metal. I ran my hands over it, feeling a seam to what was a panel. I dug my fingers into it and pulled, and the panel slid smoothly . . . to reveal a mess of multi-colored wires.

"Holy mother-fucking sugar cookies on meth," I swore. "Thatsa _lotta_ wires!"

"Maybe we should get a bomb squad in here . . ." Daimio trailed off nervously.

"Oh ye of little faith," I muttered. "Just get one of the fuzz to bring me some snips, and we'll get rid of this thing faster than a blink."

One of the cops started shouting something, and with a small backward look, Daimio walked over to see what he needed. Me? I was kinda busy.

"Okay, red wire?" I ran my hand over the red wire. "No, not that one . . . the green wire?" I ran my hand over the green wire. No, not the one to the detonator . . . . .

"Maybe the blue wire," I mused, and just barely touched the blue wire. I felt a jolt that would probably be enough to kill any normal person. It tickled. "_Totally_ the blue wire," I confirmed, nodding. "Oh yeah." I waited for a second before shouting, "WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU, DAIMIO! I NEED ME SOME WIRE-CUTTERS!!"

I sighed in frustration. "Screw you all," I muttered, "I can do this _myself_."

* * *

Okay, in retrospect, maybe trying to disarm a giant bomb by myself _probably_ wasn't the best of ideas. My idea involved overloading the system using my own electricity. Um, yeah, that didn't really work. The entire thing went off, and the ground began to shake.

"WHAT THE _**FUCK **_DID YOU DO, JINK?" Daimio came running. A few cops were running, one carrying a small girl in his arms.

"I TRIED TO SHUT THE FUCKING THING DOWN!" I shouted back. "NOT **MY** FAULT I CAN'T FIND SOME DAMN _**WIRE CUTTERS!**_"

"HOW THE FUCK DO WE MAKE IT STOP?!?!?" he shouted, and for a second, I thought he was gonna start foaming at the mouth.

"_**GET ME SOME DAMN WIRE CUTTERS!"**_ I bellowed. He shouted something to one of the cops, and they pulled out a pair of pliers. He tossed them to Daimio, who tossed them to me. I bent down and snipped the blue wire. Immediately, the tremors ceased, and I sighed.

"_That_ was close," I sighed, and gave a somewhat hysteric laugh. "Anyone got some chocolate?"

"Jink, is you _ever_ do that _again_," Daimio said slowly, "I'm going to shoot you and bury you in a shallow grave next to Roger."

"That a threat or a promise?" I asked sarcastically. The little girl (DAMN she had some big eyes), she walked up to me and looked up. "Hey, small one," I gave a half-hearted wave. "How goes it?"

"I believe you're a friend of the one called Abe, correct?" she asked in perfect English.

"You know where he might be?" I asked. I thought my heart skipped a few beats.

"No," she said, "I know where he _is_."

"THEN TO THE CAR!" I took off running, only to pause and doube back to her and ask, "Where is he . . . exactly?"

The girl turned to Daimio and commented, "She's not very bright, is she?"

"HEY!" I exclaimed indignantly. "I'm smart! I'm just . . . hyper . . . right now. I can't _help_ that."

"Yeah, she's like this about ninety percent of the time," Daimio shrugged. "Ya get used to it after a while."

Yep, spreadin' the love, people.

* * *

So, the wee girl, who claimed to actually be a thousands-year-old mummy speaking _through_ the little girl, told us where Abe had gone. Turns out, his 'buddies' were living in glorified fish tanks trying to re-grow themselves some bodies. Abe found them, and was stuck on some island. Great. He ditched us . . . to meet with these people.

The island itself was beautiful. The plants were colorful, and the animals were . . . different. Hybrids. It was kinda cool.

When I saw Abe, though, I exploded at him, and all thoughts of pretty island plants and weird animals flew south. When I started yelling, I was fifty yards away, but by the time I was done, I was only about five yards away.

"WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKIN'!?!?! YOU GOT A DEATH WITH OR SOMETHIN'!??!?!? GODDAMMIT, IF I HAD HALF A FUCKIN' MIND I'D BEAT YOU ASS 'TIL YOU COULDN'T _SIT_!!! SEE? YOU GOT YOURSELF FUCKIN' HURT!!! WHAT THE _HELL_ IS WRONG WITH YOU!?!?!? YOU'D BEST NOT SNEAK OFF AGAIN, YOU HEAR ME?!?!"

I stopped yelling and practically glomped him. It caught him off guard, me yelling at him one second and practically crushing him to death the next, but I can be random like that.

"Don't you _dare_ do that again," I said quietly. "Had me worried. I almost had to fry me some cops."

"I apologize for making you worry," Abe said finally. "And I don't think I'll really be doing that again."

"You had best not," I snarled quietly.

* * *

We found out that the guys who contacted Abe were the ones who planted the bomb, so it wasn't just some random bomb that we had to research and track down who made it. Load of OUR minds. AND I got to rub it in - I was RIGHT. That hardly ever happened, so I had to get my kicks in while I could.

So yeah, things settled down and became better. We all went home and lived happily ever after. Well . . . yeah, we were all sorta happy.

The mummy that led us to the island told us to call her Panya. On the way back, we had a nice conversation. I like her - she's not in my face about my black clothing, or throwing some 'Elektra' crap at me. Very nice, all things considered.

Those bodies that Abe told us the guys were tying to grow, we're bringing one back for Johann. We're thinkin' that maybe he could actually inhabit one, and have an actual body. No one really knows, so here's to hoping.

But I have a feeling my adventures aren't over just yet . . . .

* * *

**Yeah, the ending sorta sucked there at the end (DUH), but I was rushing and I AM kinda hyper. Title from this one ALSO comes from ALL THAT I'VE GOT by The Used. I gotta go - homework *shudder* and all, but I promise that the next few chapters are the kinda fanfiction that we freaks LIVE for!!! And as Abe said in the *cough*notcomic*cough* movie, "All we freaks have is each other." Or somethin' like that . . .**

**~Izzy XD  
**


	30. Changes

**hey guys! New chapter! be warned - this is a long chapter. I'm not kidding. It's, like, Super-Chapter. Chapter on steroids. Yeah. Happy reading!**

*************

"_Come one, come all, to this tragic affair. Wipe off that make up - what's in is despair. Throw on the black dress, mix in with the lot. You might wake up and notice you're someone you're not. If you look in the mirror and don't like what you see, you'll find out first hand what it's like to be me. So gather 'round piggies, and kiss it good-bye. I'd encourage your smiles, I'll EXPECT you won't CRY . . . "_

I was in the gym again, lifting weights. No, I didn't have a spotter - and I'm getting sick of people telling me what to do . . . Yes, I have problems with authority, why do you ask?

I was getting toned again - I had gone past my old limit of two hundred and was lifting almost three. Most people thought that what I was doing is 'impossible' and 'stupid', but in my line of work, there's no such thing as impossible. Just 'highly unlikely, but it happens anyway'. Such a fun job . . .

Anyway, I just put the bar back on the rack and got up to stretch. I walked over to the stereo, unplugged my iPod and stuck it into my pocket. Just as I was getting ready to leave, a heavy hand fell on my shoulder. Instincts kicked in - I grabbed the hand and flipped the person over my shoulder. Once he was was on the floor, I jumped on his back and wrenched his arm backwards far enough where if I gave the slightest amount of pressure, his arm would snap like a twig.

"Listen, asshole, _you don't touch me,_" I hissed. "Now _who_ the _hell_ are _you?!?!"_

"Jink, it is _me!_ Johann!" He squirmed beneath me. "Now can you _please_ let me up!"

"Oh, sorry, dude!" I laughed nervously as I let go of his arm and got off his back. "Didn't expect you in the flesh, that's all. So I take the body's workin' for ya, eh?"

He got up and brushed himself off - HE WAS FUCKIN' HUGE!! Like, seriously!! He was 2.5 times my height, and HAD to have weighed almost three fifty. The man was a giant. He was bigger than Hellboy, and that's SAYIN' something!

"It is okay, Jink," he said politely. "I know that you are quite paranoid when it comes to people. I was just coming to ask if you would like to join me for lunch."

With him looking down at me, and promptly forgetting the 'personal space' talk we had a few years back, my creep alerts were flying off the handle: "_DANGER! DANGER! DO __**NOT**__ GO ANYWHERE WITH THIS GUY! OH __**HELL**__ NO!"_

I know it's wrong and all - I've known Johann for quite a while, and he's done nothing to make me suspect he's out to get me - but, yeah, Johann NOT in his spaceman suit is awkward. REALLY REALLY awkward.

"Sorry, buddy, but I gotta get a shower," I said quickly. "Can't walk around smellin' like an old sock. Maybe later, n'kay?"

"Sure, that sounds good," he tried to say, but I was already out of the room.

*************

I was running into the hanger when the Air Force guys came in. They were carrying a HUGE metal cage-type thing. Abe and Daimio were already there when I came running up. I looked out of place - everyone was wearing parkas and hats, and I was chillin' in a small black jacket and my usual black jeans/shirt/fedora. I ignored the stares as I ran up to Abe and Daimio.

"Did I miss anything?" I asked excitedly.

"Just got here," Abe told me.

"Damn Air Force," Daimio muttered, crossing his arms over his chest.

"They can't be _all_ be bad," I shrugged.

One of the Air Force guys used a fork lift to move the cage away from the chopper. You could hear the animal-like cries and roars from inside the thick-walled cage. As they set it down, I peered into the front barred window.

"Heeeeeeeeeey Daryl," I said, sounding chipper.

The snow-white wendigo with the bloody mouth and long limbs and sharp claws clawed the door and roared at me.

"I thought you guys were supposed to sedate him for the trip," I said slowly.

"_You_ guys are the magic, voo-doo people!" the Air Force captain snapped at me. "_You_ put his ass to sleep."

"There is _no need_ for you to be grumpy," I said slowly.

"Like _hell_ there is!" he nearly growled at me. "I gotta deal with freaks like _you_!"

"Ex_cuse_ me?" I said slowly. My lip curled in an evil snarl, and I tried to jump the guy, but Abe's arm barred the way. Wow, he's gotten kinda strong - I couldn't get past him. Once the Air Force guy was gone, I stopped struggling and shoved my hands in my pockets.

"Damn Air Force," I muttered.

*************

I walked down the hallway, whistling a random tune. It sounded sorta like the Simpsons theme, but I wasn't really thinking about it - I was just making noise.

Ebony coasted down the hallway and landed gracefully on my head. She gave a chirp in greeting and folded her wings up.

_Gregory has been looking for you_.

"I'm off to see 'im now," I told her. "We haven't hung out in _forever_, and I want to kick his ass at poker."

_You are such a child, Jink._

"Whaddadya expect, me to be a mini-adult?" I scoffed. "I can act like a child if I want to, thank you."

She gave a squawk. _One of these days, you're going to have to put your childish exploits behind you and become an adult._

"But not for another few years!" I said happily.

Waltzing down the hallway, we turned the corner to run into our favorite giant bug-man.

"Heeeeeey Greg!" I said excitedly. I threw my arms around him in a lazy hug. Ebony toppled over, and with a squawk in my direction, she flew off back the way we came. "I haven't seen you in _forever_. How goes it?"

He hugged me back, and pulled out a card and a pen: "It's been good. Nice to see you again."

"Dude, I've missed you," I sighed. "And you give the _best_ hugs."

*************

_"I wanna rob you of your game face so I can cower beneath your words. Cause I'm a freak from the same place - let suicide make a meal for birds. Into your heart, I gut the dagger - the metaphor will suffice for now. Get in my bed, I wanna kill you. Show you mine if you show me hoooow . . ."_

Greg scribbled away on a card. "Okay, don't you think the song's a _little_ inappropriate?"

"Not really," I shrugged. "I've heard worse."

We were in the poker room, and I was actually kicking ass. My pile of chips (pennies) was growing. Oh yeah! I was winning!

New card: "Like what?"

I grinned, and flipped the iPod. "_If I die and go to hell real soon, it will appear to me as this room. And for eternity I'll lay in bed in my boxers, half-stoned, with a pillow under my head. I'll be chatting on the internet, maggots praying on the living dead. I had no interest in the things she said on the phone everyday - I'll permanently hit the hye-hey. I called her on the phone and she touched herself-,"_

"OKAY, STOP!" This card was coupled with a few clicks and squeaks. "THE ENTIRE BPRD DOESN'T NEED TO HEAR THIS SONG!"

"Okay, okay," I flipped the song again - this time to _Desolation Row_. "Calm down. 'Snot like someone's right outside the door listening to us."

"Yes, you may be right," he wrote, "but can you imagine what would happen if Daimio came in here with you singing that song? Isn't it going a little too far?"

"There's a line that we of the BPRD recognize as 'too far'," I said, trying to sound official. "Too far is when I go and sing this song to a nube who knows nothing about me. Too far is . . . um, . . ."

"Throwing your boxers at Daimio when he's not looking?" Greg offered

"Yeah, like that time I didn't get my laundry done and I wore a pair of old pants?" I laughed. "And when I was walking, a pair of my underwear fell out of the leg?"

"The purple ones with the smiley faces, right?" Greg wrote, and he was giving small insect chuckles.

"Man, that was funny . . ." I giggled. "Good times . . . "

"Good times with great people," Greg agreed.

"Because there was no one else at the time!" I said with bravado. "While a friend may lend you money to get out of jail, people around here'd be in there with ya saying, "I never saw a tire _go_ that high! Damn, that was _fun!_ Let's go again!" Cause we're the baddest of the bad!"

"Okay, Jink," Greg wrote, "I think you can stop."

"The _best_ of the _best_!" I went on. I was going to say more, but an index card hit my face. I turned to him, mouth agape. "What the _hell?_" I said.

"You wouldn't stop," Greg wrote and gave a shrug. "So I threw a card."

"Okay," I shrugged. "Sorry." I picked my cards back up, but slammed them back down. "Okay, Greg," I sighed, "Hand over my ace."

*************

I was in the basement, leaning up against the wall. Daryl the wendigo was in a holding cell in the room behind me.

"_Here I am at home again, this rainy avenue put me in my proper place, I'm not the one for you. But you're here now, can you come in, it's freezing . . . I found a way to blur your face and smear the words you said. You made me feel alive again - I wish we never met. But you're here now, can you come in, I'm freezing . . ."_

Daryl loved music. Back when he liked to talk, he told me some of his favorite songs. Now, his human intellect was long gone, but those songs made him calm down.

"_I finally let go. I've learned to live without you after all those weeks alone. But now you're back for more. I'm trying to fight it off but there's a mutiny below . . ."_

I felt really bad for Daryl. He was turned into a wendigo, and his family never knew. No letters, no good-byes . . . it's gotta suck.

_"There were nights when I was sure your love was all I had. Pining at the door you left through, God it hurt so bad. But you're here now, you're makin' eyes, I'm breaking . . . "_

I felt like magic - like I was weaving a spell with words. Of course, just as I was getting it going, Daimio appeared at the end of the hallway. I immediately stopped, and Daryl didn't like that. He began to claw at the door and growl.

"Heeeeeeey Daimio," I sighed. "What's up, Kemo-Sabe?"

"What are you _doin'_ down here?" Daimio asked, somewhat surprised.

"Just chillin' with Daryl," I shrugged. "He likes it when people sing to him."

"And you know this _how_?"

"He told me a while back."

"And that was you singing?"

"Yessirrey, Bob." I scratched my head as I asked, "What are _you_ doin' down here?"

"I need something to keep me busy," he replied, sounding a little nervous.

"Go find a chick or somethin'," I shrugged. "Guys do it all the time."

"Jink, that's a stupid idea. And totally sexist. Thought you were against that." He leaned up against the wall. "And almost anyone could take that the wrong way."

"I'm asexual," I shrugged. "And I don't give a fuck about what people think of me. You don't think I didn't hear rumors about me when I hung out with Roger?" I got up off the floor. "If you need something to distract you," I snapped, "Then do it someplace else."

I walked past him and his questioning look, and made way to my room.

You know what asexual is, right? Means I'm not interested in sex. Cause seriously, it seems to be too much drama around here. And it's true - I heard 'em all when me and Roger hung out. In fact, people are starting to talk more about me - and others. but I don't care. Life is life, and what goes around comes around.

I turned the corner and ran into Kate. She was struggling, trying to carry this large pile of papers. I ran up to her and took a load off the top.

"I got this," I said, trying not to drop the papers.

"Oh, thanks, Jink," Kate said. "Johann's been dropping behind on his reports. Can't imagine what's going on in that man's head . . ."

"He ask you out to lunch too?" I asked knowingly.

"I've known him for years, but now . . ." Kate trailed off.

"It's totally awkward," I finished. "I gotcha. I'll give 'im the papers and tell 'im to get his act together. Go get some food, dude - you look hungry."

After I waved Kate off, I altered my course to Johann's room. When I got there, I knocked on the door. And when he answered . . .

"GRATUITOUS MALE NUDITY!" I shouted, throwing an arm over the top of my face. "MY _EYES*!_"

"I am sorry," Johann said, moving the door so he was hiding behind it. "Is there something you need?"

"Yeah, Kate told me to hand off your paperwork - you're getting behind," I said, still not peeking from behind my arm. He snatched the papers from my hand, and for a second, I heard something I REALLY didn't want to hear.

"YOU'RE WATCHING _PORN!?!?"_ I shrieked. He stumbled over words, but I was running away, doing the All-Over-Shudder Dance.

*************

Ah, my room. The only safe place I had left. I lay on the floor, staring up into space, when I heard a knock on the door. "Come in!" I called out.

"Hey, Jink," Abe said, opening the door and sticking his head in. "Have you seen Johann or Ben?"

"Why?" I asked, my stomach clenching with worry, "What happened?"

"Daryl got out. We found two dead bodies, and we can't find Daimio or Johann."

*************

**Okay, THAT was a cliffhanger. I'm going off of the **_**Killing Ground**_** TBP, and it's true - Daimio gets twitchy, and Johann, now in a human form, gets kinda . . . creep-ish. Like, alot. It shows him in bed (almost nude) reading porn. So yeah, it's creepy like that. **

**The first song is THE END by My Chemical Romance, the second is METAL NOW by Say Anything, the third is WOW, I CAN GET SEXUAL, TOO by Say Anything again, and Daryl's Song is MUTINY BELOW by Ludo. And the song I mentioned, DESOLATION ROW, is by MCR, but I think you all knew that. I love that video . . **

***This is Chase's little rant in RUNAWAYS. It's funny - you guys should read it. **

**Well, that's all for now, folks. Be lookin' for a new chapter by the end of the week, and wish me luck - I'm supposed to be gettin' a huge storm this week, and if I do, it means a NEW CHAPTER SOONER!!! So, with all due respect.**

**~Izzy (who the hell stole my pants THIS time?)**


	31. The Hero And The Monster

**hey guys! Another Chapter! Did y'all check out the super cliff-hanger that Zipper had? man, that got me SOOOOOO bad . . . betcha had fun wit dat, eh Zipper? Well, there's two songs that motivated this chapter: _Monster_ and _Hero_ by Skillet . . .**

* * *

**_It's just another war  
Just another family torn . . _**

**_I need a hero to save my life  
A hero's not afraid to risk his life  
A hero's gotta save me just in time . . _**

* * *

Who knew that such a sentence could get me to spring to action in such a way? I felt like I just got sucker-punched in the gut. I got up and hurriedly slipped on my shoes, hat, and handwarmers. I pocketed my pocket knife (yes, the very one from my suicide attempt) and opened the door wider to get past Abe.

"Let's get this party started," I said quietly.

The entire time we walked, thoughts ran amuck in my head.

_Dead dead dead . . . ._

_They're all dead . . ._

_Karma's a bitch, ain't it?_

_You tried to kill yourself . . ._

_You wanted to die . . ._

_And now half of your family is DEAD . . ._

_If I could, I'd laugh at you . . ._

_But, seeing how I'm YOU, that would be counter-productive._

_Gotta stay strong for the others, eh?_

_At least, until later . . ._

_We still got that knife . . . ._

_And all the time in the world . . ._

Whoa, hold up - who was I talking to up there? Creepy - I was talking to myself. And the thoughts were kind of a bitch. But I was faintly disturbed by those last lines (wow, only a FEW lines of the conversation I had with myself scare me . . . what the hell.).

_We still got that knife . . . And all the time in the world . . . ._

*************

Well, thank my lucky stars. No one (I knew) was dead. God, you know how much I wanted to jump for joy right there? My entire insides went YEAH! and stopped beiing so twitchy. Uhg, no more Dr. Pepper for me after nine o'clock at night.

The sub-basement was a total mess. Blood and gore everywhere. Uhg, I can't stand the sight of dead people insides. My stomach was simmering. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. _Nothing to it,_ I thought_, just a deep breath_.

I began to poke around the bloody mess, breathing through my mouth and pretending all the red gooey stuff was ketchup. Daimio was there, looking down at a skull, and I swear to God I felt my entire body totally _relax_ and sag.

_Okay, so he's fine, and if this was Johann, he would've found one of his spare suits . . . all is well . . . no need to have a panic attack . . . _

I walked up to him, and it took a second to register that he was wearing nothing but a towel. Wow, talk about awkward.

"So, um, I see you're okay," I began, walking up to him.

"Yeah," he said, eying me suspiciously.

"Abe told me that you were dead," I said, "Well, he sorta insinuated . . ."

"Well, I'm not," he said pointedly.

"I'd totally glomp you right now, but since you're in a towel, that would be totally awkward," I said, looking down at my feet.

"Well, I'm fine, so go away," he snapped.

"Jackass," I muttered, walking away and stuffing my hands in my pockets. I walked up to Kate, who was on her cell phone and tapping her foot agitatedly.

"Heeeeeeeeeeey Kate," I sighed. "How goes it?"

"Johann won't answer his damn phone," she sighed, sounding frustrated. "No one knows where he went."

"That sucks . . ." I sighed. "And I feel kinda bad about the two dead people . . ."

"I don't envy the person who has to tell their loved ones," Kate agreed.

"So . . . are we hunting for Daryl now?" I asked slowly.

"No, we're hunting for a wendigo," Kate said simply. "Daryl freed his spirit when he killed those people."

"So . . . paaaaaaaaaaaaaarty?" I asked slowly.

"No, Jink, we're on lockdown," Kate said simply. "We have to hunt for a wendigo."

"So hunting paaaaaaaaaaaaaaarty?" I suggested.

"If that's what it takes for you to do your job," Kate sighed.

"YEA!" I jumped for joy.

**************

"We've split up into five teams," Kate ordered. "The biggest team, Team Alpha, you go look in sub-basement two for those flamethrowers. Team Beta, you're with me, we're searching the top floors. Team Omega, you're with Jink, you're searching the sub-basemeants and floor one. Team Theta, you're with Captain Daimio, you get the middle floors. Team Delta, you're with Liz, you're guarding Panya. Any questions? Liz . . . Liz?"

Liz had stretched her arms out and had fallen asleep on the table. I fetl so bad for her. I've heard through the grapevine that she's had some wicked nightmares, and here she is, trying to lead a mission. I feel so bad for her. Don't tell her I said that, though - she'd set me on fire faster than a match on straw.

"Greg, you're with me on this one," Kate continued. I gave a sigh and waved at him. No Partner-In-Crime-ness today, I guess.

"We communicate through headsets only. Each team is on a closed circuit, and if you need to contact another team, you go through a switchboard. Any questions?"

No one moved.

"The why the HELL are you all just _standin' around?"_

*************

God, you know how quiet it is in a basement? It's eerily quiet. I hated it. I wanted to whistle or something, but I was supposed to be a 'good example' for the team I was leading. Man, I couldn't get over that - I was _leading_ a _team_. That _never_ happened.

The basement was dark (another DUH moment), and quiet (I'm not even gonna say it this time). I used a regular light bulb held in my hand to light the way. Yes, I can power a lightbulb. Oh, ye of little faith . . .

So, we were walking, when I heard a hissed whisper behind me. I whirled to see nothing but the dozen men I had to lead. Yes, all men. I didn't know to call it karma or what, but whatever it was, it was pissing me off.

"What was that?" I asked, dimming the light so it didn't get in people's eyes. "What happened?"

"Nothin'," one of the guys shrugged. Another disquised a snicker as a cough.

"No, tell me what you said," I asked, smiling and turning up the light a little. "I like a joke as much as the next person."

"Not _this_ one," one of the more quiet guys whispered, earning an elbow in the ribs from the first guy.

"_What?"_ I snapped.

"_Nothin'_," the first guy snapped. I could see his face now - dark hair, clean shaven, gray eyes. I don't like him.

"Let me guess," I sighed, folding my arms, "It's a rumor about my habits or something about sex, am I right?"

"So what if ya are?" he shrugged. "Ain't gonna stop it. And we _all_ know how well you treated Roger, and now we see you've replaced him wit the Captain and the bug."

Okay, this was supposed to be my _team_, and I snapped all over his face. I managed to slam him into a wall and flipped out my pocket knife and held a blade up to his throat.

"This can go one of three ways," I hissed. "I can go elementry school and let _Greg_ and _Daimio_ get ahold of your ass, I can go high school and kick your ass _myself_, or I can do the professional thing and file a report on you for sexual harassment." I paused, pretending to think. "You know, I like _plan B _better!"

That man has an angel looking out for him - just as I was deciding on whether or not to shock his ass or spill his guts, a crackle-y call came over our communicators.

"_WE NEED ALL AVAILABLE PERSONNEL TO COME TO THE SOUTH SIDE FOURTH FLOOR DOORS! SUBJECT IS IN MOTION OF ESCAPE!!!"_

I glared once more at the man, and let go of him. "You got lucky this time, you mother-fucking piece of shit. You best pray that I don't see you again after this."

Without another word, we rushed to the fourth floor, south side. We got there in record time. But no use - the wendigo got out in the snow anyway.

Slowly, the men dispersed, until only Greg, Daimio, and I were left, watching the snow fall outside the hole the wendigo made.

Greg pulled out a card and wrote: "Who pissed you of this time, Jink?"

"Who said I was mad?" I snapped. "I'm fine."

"We've known you for too long to be lied to, kid," Daimio butted in, "Just spill it."

"Some jackass agent insinuating that I'm havin' sex with everybody," I shrugged. "Almost kicked his ass, but the call came in. When I find him again . . " I hissed out a sigh, and the lights overhead got a little brighter.

Greg pulled out another card: "Report him and sue his ass."

"Screw that," Daimio said, catching a glimpse of the card. "Next time, screw the call and kick his ass."

I smirked and shook my head. "You guys are such bad influences."

*************

I was walking down the hall. We were sorta still on lock-down, but since the wendigo was gone, it didn't make sense anymore. I didn't see the shooter until it was too late, and a few things happened at once.

1. I was shot in the shoulder.

2. The shooter was then shot multiple times by Abe, who had saw it go down, and now the guy was dead.

3. Daimio's room _exploded_ . . . with him inside.

I was on my knees, holding my shoulder . . . when I saw the monster. it was large, red, and jaguar shaped.

And it had Damio's holster strapped to itself.

"What the hell . . . "

* * *

_**It's hidin' in the dark  
Its teeth are razor sharp  
There's no escape for me  
it wants my soul it wants my heart  
No one can hear me scream  
Maybe it's just a dream  
Or maybe its inside of me  
Stop that monster . . .**_

* * *

**So there's the chapter for ya guys!!! I'll try to have another one this weekend (or two), but I make no promises - I'm in Super AP classes, and teachers don't believe in 'No homework over the weekend'. So, to my friends, I bid thee adieu. Please review, and I'll give you cookies. **

**~Izzy, who's making fuzzy wolf-ears for school XD  
**


	32. Who Needs Air?

**Hey guys! new chapter!!! Now, a word of warning - this is a freakin' HUGE chapter!!!!! Longer than I've ever done! So, yeah, see you at the end!!!!  
**

* * *

You know, being shot hurt like a bitch. I bet you all probably knew that, but I'm just letting you know, in case you were wondering, that yes it indeed hurts like a bitch. I didn't scream - I'm sorry, but a screamer I'm not - but I started cursing up a storm.

"Goddamn son of a bitchin' piece of crappy shit-shit fuckin' bitchy shitty crap in a hat . . . ." I groaned, trying to stand. I held a hand to the gaping hole on my left shoulder, trying to stem the flow, but there was a _hole_ in my shoulder a little bigger than a hlaf-dollar. And blood was pumpin' out that fucker faster than a fat guy at an all-you-can-eat buffet (no offense to the morbidly obese). Within seconds the entire back of my shirt was soaked.

Abe had a hold on me, trying to help me stand up, but I tried to push him away, saying I could do it myself, but that pain got worse and I blacked out for a second and the next thing I know I'm sitting on a table without a shirt and a doc's lookin' at the hole in my back. Wow, that was totally a run-on sentence, but who the hell cares?

"Nooooooo," I moaned, trying to inch away from the doctor. "Don't need help. Just need a Band-Aid."

"Jink, my girl, I do not believe that a band-aid could fix this," the doctor said simply. "There's too much muscle damage and torn arteries. You'll need surgery soon enough, to make sure it all reconnects properly. Glad to see how nicely the cuts have healed, though . . ."

I moaned again, but didn't speak. I was getting another headache again, and I wanted a nap. But something was nagging my mind.

"Anyone find the thing that ate Daimio?" I asked.

The doctor paused, and replied, offhandedly, "No, no one's found anyone yet. You might want to talk to Kate or Abe about that later . . . "

"Fiiiiiiiiiine . . . ." I groaned. I let him bandage me up and put him in an infirmary bed, next to Liz. Oh, crap - what happened to Liz!?!?!?? It looks like she's laying there awake, but she won't blink and it looks like she's barely breathing. Oh, crap . . . .

"I don't wanna be here," I protested. "Where'd everybody go?"

_Everybody is searching for the monster formerly known as Benjamin Daimio._

Whoa, head intrusion. Ebony must be around here somewhere . . . I turned my head slightly, wincing at the pain, and there she was, laying on the empty bed next to me.

"What happened?" I asked.

_To him or to you?_

"To him," I said patiently.

_Has he ever told you about his little trip to Bolivia? _She paused, as if to let me answer, and I shook my head no. _He was attacked - and marked - by the jaguar spirit some of the natives worship as a god. Now, the spirit is taking over the Captain's body._

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

_Pray to your goddess, girl. There may be something she can do._

"I'm still fuzzy on this whole 'Goddess' thing," I sighed, exasperated. "How do I even know she's real?"

_Of _course_ she's real, child._ Ebony moved from the empty bed to mine, laying across my outstretched legs. _She's as real as you or I._

"But you said she was _dead_," I protested. "Gone. As in, _no longer amongst the living!"_

_Hush, girl. Let me explain. There comes a time in every life when the body can no longer keep up with the spirit. And so the spirit leaves the body, in what you humans call 'death'. This did not happen to the Goddess - she passed with both her body _and_ spirit. She lies just beyond this realm. _

"So, no 'heaven or hell' type of deal-y?" I asked, kind of confused.

_Of course not, child. Heaven is for the children of this so-called God. You were not created by him, so you go to the After-Realm. You've been there before - it's the field that you saw your friend in._

"So . . . how do I talk to her?" God(dess), this was confusing . . .

_Pray. She will listen. You are of her blood, after all._

I tried, painfully, to sit up, but I just pulled on my shoulder, so I lay back against the bed, closed my eyes, and folded my hands.

_Um, hi. I've never really done this before, so please forgive any mistakes I make. One of my friends is being taken over by some jaguar spirit, and I would like to know if you of any way to save him. Please help me. Um, thank you for the powers, I guess, and I hope you have a nice day in those pretty fields. Thank you, amen._

Wow, I prayed like a two-year-old. I turned to Ebony and asked, "Was that good?"

_I would not know,_ she thought simply. _I find it rude to listen in on people's thought when they're praying to their respective gods or goddesses._

"Delightful," I sighed, and worked on sitting up - there's a hunt goin' down out there, and I'll be damned if I miss it. It hurt alot - trust me here, I know what I'm talkin' about - but I finally did it. I had a one tract mind at the moment. I didn't care that I was partially nude because the doctors confiscated my shirt. Didn't care that I had no idea what I was doing. Nope, I'm off to try to help someone and possibly screw something up in the process.

I hobbled out of the infirmary, and came face to face with the monster that was Daimio.

I don't think I described him that well. He was bigger, red, and was somewhat jaguar-like. Crazy, I know, but you get that here. A mouthful of razor-sharp teeth, and though he was big, some parts of him were really boney. And he was watching me, like he was calculating his next move. What did I do? Did I run? Shock his ass into next week? Nope. Damn, if this was a movie, I was TOTALLY the comic relief.

"Heeeeeeey, Ben," I said quietly. "How goes it? Well, that's a horrible question - I can see that we've got a few problems."

Agents started to pour through the halls, guns ready to fire, but I held up a hand, meaning _I got this._

"But you know what?" I continued, staying quiet, "We can help you. I got a few pointers from a friend of ours, saying we can help get rid of this whole thing. No more bad kitty in your head. Whaddaya say?"

Greg burst through the crowd, waving a card saying, "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING, JINK!?!?!?" I held up my hand again, trying to tell them to wait.

"Huh? Sound good?" I crouched to the floor, getting on my knees (which hurt, just so you know). He copied my movements, getting closer to the floor. I didn't know if that meant he understood or if he was just trying to get a better way to eat me, but I took it as a good sign. "We'll make it all better, and everyone'll be happy. Okay?"

And that's when Johann burst through the goddamn wall and landed an uppercut to Daimio's jaw.

"Goddammit, Johann, what the _fuck_ do you think you're _doin'?!?!"_ I hissed through clenched teeth.

"Sorry it took me so long to get back," he explained, totally ignoring me, "I was stuck in traffic."

"YOU CONTEMPTUOUS ASSHOLE!" I shouted, "DO YOU HAVE ANY _IDEA_ WHAT YOU JUST FUCKED UP?!?!?"

Daimio jumped at him, and Johann pulled him into a headlock.

"STOP!" I hollered, and almost jumped into the fray. Kate somehow managed to grab my right arm and held me back.

"It's no use, Jink," she said quickly, "You can't help him."

"_Yes I can,"_ I hissed. "_Only if you let me._"

I wrenched my arm out of her grip, but it was too late. Ooooh, that was nasty, gross, and wrong on SO many levels.

Daimio just ripped Johann's jaw clean off.

Oh man, I think I have to puke. I turned away from the scene and gave a dry heave. I tried to compose myself, telling myself that it was okay, and Johann can get a suit or something, and . . . and . . .

Man, life here right now is going to hell in a handbasket. We are SO fucked right now.

I took off running, not knowing where I was going, when an alarm went off. Someone just left the base, and I had an idea who.

And another plan was forming quickly in my mind . . .

* * *

Outside was a blizzard. I had a backpack with a couple books of matches, my knife and pocket knife, a space blanket, and an extra pair of shoes. There was a flashlight, too, but that wouldn't work well with the weather. I had found a shirt, a jacket, and a snow-coat, and I was trekking through the snow, looking for the captain. I can find him - I know I can. Sure, it was snowing like there was no tomorrow, but all was well.

I'm not sure how long I was out there - maybe an hour or so - before I found him face first in the snow. He had returned back to his normal human shape, and all he had on was a pair of jeans, torn enough to look like short-shorts. Damn.

I bent down next to him, putting a hand on his neck. Yep, there's a pulse. But the man was out cold. I grabbed him around his middle and heaved him over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He was heavy, but not THAT heavy. Thanks God(dess) I started working out again.

In my little trek, I got lost. Really, really lost. I couldn't see the base, I couldn't feel it's electrical signiture, and the snow was getting worse. The only alternative to the base was a cave or something like that. And luckily, I knew such a cave . . .

* * *

_Jink and Roger walked through the fields, exploring their new home._

_"I can't believe it," Jink said, looking around herself excitedly, "We get to live is such a nice place. Now we can go run around outside!"_

_"It's pretty," Roger agreed. "I like the trees. We didn't have those back in Connecticut. And there's no highways."_

_"Isn't it wonderf-AAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!" Jink slid down a hole in the ground. Roger ran to the hole where Jink disappeared and looked down, hollering, "JINK! ARE YOU OKAY!??!?!"_

_"I'm BETTER than okay!" Jink yelled back up. "I found something COOL!!" Roger climbed down the hole, careful of the jarring impact. Looking around, he saw only darkness. _

_"Jink?" he called out tentatively._

_She appeared before him, lighting the way with her hand. "See it?" she asked excitedly. "It's a network of tunnels!" She held her hand to the walls, and there were entryways to other tunnels. They took the one in the middle, and after a few minutes of walking, they came back outside, right next to a grove of oak trees._

_"This is SO cool," Jink said. _

* * *

Yeah, I remember where it is now. I was right next to it. I took a left, and after a few meters, I was at the entryway that lead to the tunnels. Animals used them mostly, but I knew for a fact that there was a cavern we could stay in.

It was dark in the tunnels, and I had to use my empty hand to light the way. Man, of all the times to put the flashlight in the backpack instead of my pocket . . .

I found the cavern I was thinking of. It was big enough for five people and a fire, thank goodness, and there was already some firewood. I was going to have to get more, though . . .

I set Daimio down as carefully as I could and got to work. I set out the blanket and put him on top of it (no need to get messed up by sleeping on rocks - why not sleep on a blanket AND rocks?), and shed my jacket and coat to cover him up. I had a shirt and pants, and he had shorts - I think he needs it more than I.

I piled the wood in the center of the cavern and set to work on making the fire. It took a second to do it - the wood was a little damp. I left for two minutes to grab another armful of wood, and finally got the fire going. Once all that was done, I sat down and pulled my knees to my chest. What to do now? I didn't grab my communicator, and I didn't have a cell phone. Crap.

So I called the only person I knew would hear me.

_Ebony? Can you hear me? Please? Hello?_

_Jink, child, where _are_ you? The humans around here are blind with worry and fury. _

_I'm in a cave in the woods. I found the captain. How do I get in touch with Elektra?_

_My girl, meditate. Slow your system down, and you shall find yourself in her realm._

_I'll be alive after this, right?_

_Of course - Elektra wouldn't let her blood die because they wanted to get in touch._

_Thank you._

_Just be careful, and do it quickly - I believe that they are going to send out a search party._

Uhg. Meditating. I can do it.

I let go of my legs and sat in the full lotus position. _Breathe in, breathe out. Deep breaths. You can do it. Breathe in . . . breathe out . . . . _

* * *

I opened my eyes again to see the fields I was in before. So this is where I'm going when I die? Sweetness. I got up and walked around, trying to find this goddess.

"Hellooooooooo?" I called out. "Anyone there?"

I turned around to see a pale woman in a black toga-like dress, with brown hair and hazel eyes. Her face seemed . . . soft. Like she didn't use her face often. And she was kinda tall. Like, not as tall as Hellboy was, but WAY taller than I was.

"Who are you?" I asked slowly.

"Why, Jink," she sighed, her voice sounding light and airy, "I am Elektra, your goddess. I have heard your prayers, and I am here to answer them."

"Then what do I do?" I asked, feeling nervous - I felt like I had been still for too long.

"The only thing to do is lesson the burden," she explained. "Claim him with the sharing of blood. The jaguar will lesson his hold on the captain, but will try to latch onto you. I know you can fight it off - you're strong. And by sharing blood, he will be under _my_ protection as well."

"Why do I feel like there's a catch?" I sighed, dropping my shoulders.

"The only catch is that you'd be haunted like he is," she sighed, "Poor thing . . ."

The feilds began to fade, and the last words I heard were, "_Remember, an exchange of blood . . . ."_

* * *

I snapped my eyes open and nearly fell over, breathing heavily. Damn, that was weird. I was back in my cave, and it looked like no time had even passed. Daimio was still conked out, and the fire was still blazing.

With a sigh, I pulled the knife out of my backpack. I could only think of one, logical way to do this. I put the blade to my palm and sliced my hand open. I walked over to Daimio and slid the blade across his palm. Once it began to bleed, I put my palm on top of his.

Ooooooooooh . . . it actually burned. I could feel it. My hand felt like it was on fire. I didn't pull back - I didn't know how much was needed to make this all go down. But when I started to get dizzy, I had to sit down and let go of his hand. Whoa, head trip.

I cut a few strips off of my shirt and bound his hand and mine to stop the bleeding. Man, my head hurt . . . alot.

_Yeah, well, that's your own problem._

_Who the hell are you?_

_The voice in your head. Now shut up - I'm talking. _

_No! This is MY head, not yours!_

_You can share!_

_I don't have to!_

_Yeah, uh, ya do! Cause I ain't leavin'!_

_Fine, BE that way!_

You know, I should be worried that I'm having conversations with myself like that. Jink, the electrokinetic and scizoid. Not a good combination.

I pulled out my iPod and turned it on.

_I long to taste adventure like the nature from the sea  
Always moving, always hiding, all the creatures from beneath.  
Singing silent songs of sadness, my heart waits for its chance  
to dance upon the ashes of burned up little plans._

_And I stand alone before the night.  
My nakedness is so clear in the glow of the moonlight  
Life is old but so short  
We are young, we want more . . ._

_I'm drowning, but I don't care.  
Because when you got what I got, what I got  
Who needs air? I don't need air._

_My addiction to danger like the rush of the sea  
Like waves on the rocks, the lessons crash down on me.  
I don't need to prove the world to you, only to myself.  
So step back, look away, as I dive into the swell._

_I'm drowning, but I don't care.  
Because when you got what I got, what I got,  
Who needs air? I don't need air._

_So take me down to the river like a little child  
And take my hand and tell me it's okay to be wild.  
I never knew the world until I saw through your eyes  
I never knew myself until I ripped off my disguise_

_I'm drowning, but I don't care  
Because when you got what I got, what I got  
Who needs air? I don't need air._

It started to get colder. I was beginning to regret giving up my jacket and coat to Daimio, who was still conked out. The fire still blazed, thank God(dess), but I could feel the air temperature getting colder and colder. I held myself and tried not to shiver.

My shoulder ached. A lot. I couldn't really recall the doctor saying anything about the bullet coming out yet or not, so for all I know, I was making things worse.

I was so tired . . . Hold on, wasn't that a sign of hypothermia? I'm cold, tired . . . well, you know the lat sign of freezing to death? You feel warm. And considering how I felt now (frozen) I was looking forward to it. Uuuuuhg . . . .

You know, I never really expected any of tis to work. Not really. Sure, call it poor self esteem or lack of faith in powerful people, but I never expected anything like this work. So I wasn't expecting Daimio to wake up, there in the cave. Nearly scared the shit outta me. Yeah, he started mumbling and moving around, and when he finally opened his eyes, I was on the other side of the wall, curled into the fetal position.

"What the hell happened?" he grumbled, slurring a bit.

"You pulled a Skillet and went psycho," I explained quietly. "Some other stuff, and now you're safe."

"Pulled a Skillet?" he asked slowly.

"You let lose the monster, as in _Monster_ by Skillet," I explained, like it was the simplist things in the world.

"So, where are we?"

"A cave." Was it just me, or was my voice getting fainter?

"Jink? Are you okay?"

"No." I was getting colder. I didn't want to move. I fell over onto the ground. "No, I'm not okay. I'm not oka-aaaay. You wear me out . . . "

I closed my eyes. Scuffling, and a warm blanket draped over me. My jacket. "Jink, you need to stay awake. You fall asleep now, you're screwed."

"Uh-huh," I mumbled. I didn't want to wake up. Nope. I'm taking a nap. Good night.

* * *

So, yeah, I woke up, thanks to the abrupt and rude shaking I received. I reached out and smakced the nearest thing, smirking when someone yelped.

"Nowaymommayfivmomins . . . ." I groaned, refusing to open my eyes.

"C'mon, Jink, wake the FUCK up!" Oh, wow, the voice sounds so familiar . . .

"Get outta meh head, voice," I snarled. "I don't wanna listen no more . . ."

"What?"

I finally opened my eyes to see the ceiling of a helicopter. I was bundled in blankets and strapped to a stretcher. Looking down on me were Abe, Greg, and Kate.

"Hey guys," I said, somewhat slur-ry, "How goes it?"

"Are you awake now?" Abe asked.

Greg pulled out a card: "Dude, your skin is blue. It would be cool, if you weren't dying and all."

"Jink, sweetie, can you feel warm yet?" Kate asked worriedly.

"A little," I said quietly. "My head hurts. Where's Ben?"

"We got him," Abe assured me.

"I totally saved his fuckin' ass," I said proudly. "He's gonna owe me for _life_."

"How'd you save his life?" Kate asked.

"Elektra told me that if we had an exchange of blood, it would lesson the burdon of the thingamabob in his head and he's be protected by her," I explained.

"Okaaaaaaay," Abe said slowly.

"You don't believe me," I said, defeated. "Fine. Screw it. I'm goin' back to sleep . . . "

Yawning, I closed my eyes again . . .

* * *

**So, the song is WHO NEEDS AIR? by The Classic Crime. Love to you all, and this is dedicated to my wonderful reviewers. You've been there for me since the beginning, and you make me feel like I'm actually worth something. And to D. Inglish, cause he introduced me to The Classic Crime, and cause he's cool like dat XD. So, I bid thee adieu, until the moon blesses us with its light again.**

**~Izzy, who downloaded THE PHANTOM OF THE OPERA and REPO! THE GENETIC OPERA cause she wanted to XD! And finally found her pants . . .  
**


	33. Thankless Job

**hey hey hey! Sorry, peeps - meant to update yesterday, but I went to the movies with people and I didn't have time. Sorry! Happy reading! OH, WAIT! Contest chapter! Please see the end of the chapter . . . . . .  
**

* * *

I got put on bedrest for two weeks. TWO WEEKS! you know how impossible that is? And the doctor said tht if I got up ONCE, he would demean and detain me by handcuffing me to the bed with fuzzy handcuffs. I don't want to know where the man got those from . . . And the worst part is that I CAN'T MOVE MY LEFT ARM!!! They put me some some of half-strait-jacket sling thang, keeping my left arm strapped to my chest so I can heal. Yeah, tore muscles, made worse by my excursion . . .

But I don't care. I couldn't move for two weeks, but at least they gave me the choice to start off in my room instead of the infirmary. Sure, I have a nurse who carries around a bedpan (insert shudder here) but for the most part, I have my privacy. But like I said, it's for the most part, so I don't get to do much.

I get to watch movies, though. And I finally got my hands on a copy of _Repo! The Genetic Opera_. And DAMN, that movie is GOOD!!! Anyone else think that Terrance Zdunich as GraveRobber is pretty hot? No? Just me? Okay then, sorry about that . . .

_You are such a disappointment. You know that, right?_

Okay, I was getting really sick of this voice in my head. It was beginning to piss me off.

"Shut up," I snapped, pissed off. "You're not even _real_, so shut up. In fact, shut the _fuck_ up."

_Oh, that's nice. Do you talk to _all_ the voices like this?_

"Ex_cuse_ me, but I do believe that you are _one_ voice, not more. So go away."

_Oh, nice. I like you. I think I'm gonna ave some _fun_ here._

_"_Just _who_ are you?" I snapped. "Why the hell are you messing with me?"

_I'm just a voice. And I'm messing with you because it's funny._

"So, are you, like, my sub-conscious or something like that? Cause you're mean, like I always imagined it to be."

_You think I'm your _sub-conscious?_ Please, I've been there. Do you _know_ how twisted that fucker is? Man, the things I've seen there . . ._

"Oh, wow, thanks. I totally take that as a compliment."

_I'm serious - that place had some twisted shit, little girl. Didn't know that you thought that way. Nasty mind you got there._

"Shut _up!"_ I hissed. I put my balled-up hand to my eyes and took a deep breath. "_You're not here. You're not real, so shut the fuck up!"_

There was a knock on the door, and I pulled my hand away quicker than a flash. "Hello?" I called out. "Who's there?"

The door opened and Greg stepped through. He held up a card: "Anyone else in here? I heard you yelling."

"No, it's nothing," I said slowly. The voice had chose to remain quiet. For now. "Come in. Sit. I'm nearly pulling my hair out from boredom."

Greg came in and saw the television. The Repo Man just pulled out someone's spine to reveal the bar code on the bottom. Greg pulled out a card and pen and wrote: "Jeez, Jink, gross much?"

"Please, that is _so_ fake," I scoffed. "And we've seen worse."

"Yeah," he wrote, "But that's work. To sit and watch it in your free time is kind of nasty and disturbing."

"Says you," I shrugged. "But this movie's tight. It's an acquired taste."

"The music's kind of okay, I guess," he wrote, giving an insect shrug.

"Got the soundtrack, too," I said, smiling. Greg sat down on the edge of the bed and watched the movie for a few minutes. That was, until Daimio suddenly burst through my door (wow, knock much?).

"Bug, leave," he snapped. Greg looked from my panicked expression to Daimio's totally pissed off one, and left with increasingly slowness. Once he was gone, Daimio slammed the door shut and glared at me. I scrambled against the covers until I was on my feet and leaning on the wall, panic making it hard to think.

_You are _so_ screwed right now._

Oh joy. The voice is back.

"What's up?" I asked, voice somewhat shaking. Okay, no one tell ANYONE this, but I was never so scared for my life than at that moment. I was down and out, and he was perfectly capable of killing me and making it look like an accident.

"_What the fuck did you do to me?!?!"_ he snapped.

"What do ya mean?" I asked slowly, not moving from my spot on the wall.

"_What. Did. You. Do."_ Oh my God, I was going to die. Good-bye, cruel world.

"What do you mean - back in the cave?" I asked, my voice wavering. Please, no one take my iPod from my grave, or so help me I will come back from the grave a kill you.

"_Hell yes I mean in the cave!"_

"I saved your fucking life!" I snapped, trying to get my bearings. When it comes down to it, I'd rather be mad instead of scared. "Forgive me for _caring!"_

"_I'm talking about the fucking voice!"_ He sighed irritably and crossed him arms. "I feel you inside my fucking head. I swear to God, it's like a mini _you_ in there! It told me awkward silences-,"

"Make gay babies," I finished, trying not to giggle.

"So I reiterate: _what the fuck did you do?"_ he shouted.

"I saved your life," I repeated. "Claimed your life as mine so the freaky cat-thing in your head'll leave you alone. Now the damn thing's gonne come after me _too_. You best be damn grateful."

"Maybe I didn't _want_ to be saved!" Daimio snapped.

"Well TOO FUCKING BAD!" I shouted at him. "I'M _SOOOOO_ SORRY I FUCKING CARED!"

I jumped from the bed to the floor. Yep, it's the fuzzy handcuffs for me.

"God, man, get it through you _fat, thick_ head!" I hissed. "You're part of the _fucking family_ now, dude, and it's my _job_ to try and _do something_ if y'all's in _trouble!_" I ran my free hand through my hair. "You know how _helpless_ I felt when _Roger_ bit the dust?"

I sat back down on my bed, putting my head in my hand. "Dammit." I fell back onto the bed. "I hate this. Go 'way. I don't want you here. And the voice is bad enough."

I glared at him. "In fact, get the _fuck_ out. You're _fucking_ ungrateful. Saved your ass when _they_ were just gonna shoot ya up. _You_ don't have to stay in bed for _two fucking weeks._ Just get the hell out."

I flipped over on my side, facing the wall. Yes, I was laying on my bad arm, but I didn't want to look at him right now. And I stayed that way until I was sure he was gone.

I sat up, going back to my movie. It was at the Opera scene already. I grabbed the remote and rewound it to my favorite song.

_It's a thankless job, but somebody's gotta do it!  
Peelin' off the tissue inch by inch  
Skinnin' off the muscles, too!  
Harvestin' the kidnies for the fall  
Savin' up the livers in the fridge!  
No one ever thanks me when I'm done,  
How self-absorbed people can be!  
With a slice or a snip,  
Eenie-meenie-miney-mo!  
With a cut, and a stitch,  
Returning organs brand new!  
It's a thankless job, but somebody's gotta do it!  
Like a mop, and a broom,  
No one likes a thankless job!_

"Ain't _that_ the truth . . ." I muttered darkly.

_Don't be selfish. You don't need to be thanked._

"Shut the hell up, voice."

_I don't have to._

"Let's get the story straight - you are a poison. You cause me mental pain. This is _my_ body. And if _I_ say that I want you gone-,"

_Wake me when your lecture ends._

"Jackass."

_Watch the language. That's what your therapist used to say. You know, you _lied_ to your therapist. You lied to _everybody._ You're only living out a lie. _

"You got that from the movie."

_It applies to you, too, smartass. _

"Go away."

_De-NI-al!!!_

Okay, this is gonna take a while - can we just cut to the commercial break already?

* * *

**Okay, first of all, I just watched _Repo!_ and it certainly is a tight movie! i own nothing from it, of course, but I do find GraveRobber appealing . . **

**oh, yes! The contest! okay, there is a song, IT'S NOT ME IT'S YOU by Skillet. I used THREE LINES from it in this chapter. For whoever can point it out to me, I shall write them A CHAPTER OF WHATEVER THEY WANT. Be it love, lemon, angst, death, wh'ever boats your float. Anyone is eligable, and I shall take the FIRST TWO WINNERS. So REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW!!!!!**

**Song = "Thankless Job" by the Repo Man**

**~Izzy of the devious mind  
**


	34. Drabbles

**Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeey people. Sorry for this chapter's shortness and suckiness. I wrote half of it while having a hundred degree fever, so blame that, not me. Sooooooooooooooooooooooooo, only one person did my contest - AKA!!!! So the third and fourth part are for her. The second part is for Zipper, and the firsst part is for Johann for being a good sport while being locked in my closet for the last few months . . . XD  
**

* * *

I skipped down the hallway, happy to finally be out of bed. Ah, two weeks without the ability to get up without doctor's say-so is like Hell. So I was skipping gown the hall when I ran into Johann. He was back in his suit again, but I could tell from his stride that he was pretty pissed.

"Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeey Johann," I said, falling into step with him. "What's cookin', good lookin'?"

"There is not much going on, Jink," Johann replied. "How are you doing? I have heard about your fabulous rescue of Captain Daimio."

"Eh, shoulder still aches, and I still don't have feeling on the bottom of my feet, but it's cool," I shrugged. "But how goes it? I know you're still kinda sore over the whole dying-thang . . . ."

"Ah yes, that is true," Johann said slowly. "It was wonderful to have a body again. To have it torn away so abruptly . . . it was unbearable."

I linked my arm through his and said, "Well, fot what it's worth, I like you better this way."

"Really?" he asked.

"Why do you sound so surprised?" I made a sad face. "You're a nice guy - you're one of the guys."

"That sounds like a phrase that one would use to describe you, Jink," he pointed out.

"Like I was saying, you're the crazy uncle all us crazy kids need," I continued. "Without you, life here would actually be kinda _borning_. So don't get mad over something like that - wait until someone steals your pants to get mad."

"But I don't wear pants," Johann pointed out.

"True dat, Johann. True dat."

* * *

So, I'm walking down the hallway again, and I have a total WTF moment. What was it, you ask? Greg was laying on his back on the floor, his arms and legs waving feebly in the air.

"WHOA!" I shouted, running up to him. "What the hell happened?"

He gave a click and just kept waving his arms in the air. Crrrrrrrrrrap.

"Hold on, man, we'll get you some help." Wait, was that _panic_ that was making its way into my voice? Ohp, now we're in trouble - panic don't come out to play often. I bent down to his level and managed to pull him up.

"Oh, GOD," I huffed, "You're fucking HEAVY, you know that?" I nearly had to drag him to the infirmary. Cursing all the while. "Dammit, Greg, you need to lay off the SUGAR or something!!! Gaaaaaaah!!!!"

And so, about five minutes later, we were at the infirmary. One of the doctors rushed forward and also tried to help him up, but it took three of them (plus me) to get his ass on a table. And by the time he was on the table to be checked out, I was fucking tired and I think I might've puled something in my back.

"What's wrong with him?" I grimaced.

"You're not going to believe this . . ." the doctor trailed off.

"What?" I snapped.

"He's messed up from a small bug bomb."

There was a moment of silence, then . . .

"WHAT THE FUCK?!?!?"

* * *

Friday night. We at the BPRD had the night off. No missions or active duties. This only happened once before, and I heard it was a fun party. Right now, we were in the middle of an arm wrestling tournie. And I was winning. The pot was getting bigger and bigger (almost hitting a thousand dollars) and I was confidant that I was going to win.

Until, of course, Daimio sat down.

"Ready for this, Cap'n Crunch?" I scoffed. I put my elbow on the table, right hand ready to take him down.

"Only if you are, _lightning bug,"_ he spat. He put his elbow on the table and held his hand up.

"Wanna make this more fun?" I asked through gritted teeth.

"How?"

"Loser wears butterfly wings and tap dances on the table."

"You're on."

Hand in hand and ready to roll, the agent we dubbed referee put his hand on top of our and said, "Ready . . . set . . . GO!"

The tension of the room was no much between the two of us. His face was funny - you could tell Daimio was really trying. Me? I was just keeping my elbow rigid so he couldn't push me down. I gave a small push , and he lost an inch. Another push, another inch.

"Enjoy loosing?" I asked codially. I wasn't trying at all. Man, I am SUCH a sore winner.

"You'll be . . . loosing . . . in just a . . . second . . " he grunted.

"You know, you are _such_ a jackass," I went on. "Save your fucking life, and do I hear a thank you? No, I don't!"

I pushed a little more, and he lost another two inches. A few more, and he was done with.

"You _suck_, "I finished, and with relish, I slammed his hand to the table. The crowd cheered, nearly making me deaf. I jumped up and pumped my fist, yelling with the crowd. Then I bent down to Daimio, and whispered, "Can't _wait_ to see your wings!"

* * *

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"_No."_

"_Yes."_

_"Hell_ no."

_"Hell_ yes."

"_HELL no!"_

_"HELL yes!"_

_"FUCK NO!"_

_"FUCK YES!"_

" . . Fine."

Enter Daimio in pink butterfly wings and tap shoes. He jumped on top of the table and for five minutes, tap danced to a nameless tune.

* * *

**I do believe that I've already apologized for any suckiness. I'm seriously sick and MAN I'm getting kinda dizzy . . . Just R+R.**

**~Izzy the dizzy (OMG THAT RHYMED!)  
**


	35. Fun On A Bun

**Okay, despite EVERYTHING I've ever written, I do believe this is the shortest chapter I've ever written. I'm sorry, but I got hit by this idea, and I just had to do it. I promise a WAY longer chapter in the near future, but feel free to cut your teeth on some good slap-stick comedy!  
**

* * *

Day 25 of nothing to do. I was stuck in a rut, and life was getting boring. I knew that something would happen sooner or later at the BPRD - it usually does - but right now I needed that rush. Like, RIGHT NOW right now.

So, I did the only thing I could do.

I logged onto FanFiction Dot Net.

I know, I know - I'm a total dork, reading fanfiction like this. But some of it's really good. And I'm addicted. So sue me.

So, after a few hours of reading about nasty tricks, torn families, and messed-up lives like mine, I had a plan. A wonderful plan. A wicked plan. And man, was it going to be fun.

Three words: Get. On. Tape.

I was going to have some FUN ON A BUN!

*************

I started off with Abe, in the Comm room. I made sure A) no one was in there, and B) he wasn't looking and I hid the camera so it could capture the moment on camera but he couldn't see it.

"Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeey Abe," I said, trying not to laugh, "Wanna hear a joke?"

"Sure . . ." he said slowly.

"Just say 'addicted' after everything I say, okay?"

"Fine."

"Candy . . . "

"Addicted."

"Dr. Pepper . . ."

"Addicted."

"Sugar . . . "

"Addicted."

"What woke you up this morning?"

"Addicted. . . . . .I don't get it."

I started to giggle. "Think real hard and say it slow."

"A . . dic . . ted . . . JINK!"

I grabbed the camera and took off running, cackling like a madman.

*************

Okay, this one was going to get me shot - or burned, actually. Man, I can't believe what I got my hands on, though: a box of condoms. You heard me right: CONDOMS. And man, was I going to have fun with that!

I waltzed into Liz's room and slipped it under her pillow. I waltzed right back out, and encountered Liz in the hallway.

"Hey, Daimio left you a present under your pillow," I said offhandedly. I had hidden the camera to catch every moment. "He told me to tell you that it's there."

She rushed off, muttering to herself about what it was he left. I stayed just out of sight, so I could run in and grab my camera. She'll find it in three . . . two . . .

"!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

One.

She went running past me, me being forgotten for the moment. I dashed past her and into her room to snatch the camera.

I cackled to myself as I left the room.

*************

"Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeey Daimio," I said. He was fiddling around with this old-looking handgun, and he had tweezers and actually had GLASSES on. Man, he's never going to hear the end of this!

"What do you want, Jink?" he asked, sounding annoyed.

"What do you want, Jink?" I mimiked.

"What the hell?"

"What the hell?"

"Shut the fuck up, Jink."

"Shut the fuck up, Jink."

"You really need to leave, Jink."

"You really need to leave, Jink."

He paused and thought for a second. "I'm a stupid little grub with rocks for brains."

"Well," I said, feigning seriousness, "At least you had the courage to admit it."

I ran as he tried to take a swing at me, camera in hand, cackling like the madman I was.

*************

I plugged the camera into the computer and downloaded the files. After making a wonderful little three minute movie, I saved and named the file "Embarrassing Movie", and e-mailed it to Daimio, Liz, and Abe, with a little note attached: _Your time has come! Now you're a star! Have fun!_

. . . . .

I better run for cover.

* * *

**Ha ha ha! There you guys go! A nice, funny (punny!) chapter for the lot of ya! Hope y'all had fun! I have English homework to work on, so wish me luck. LOVE TO YOU ALL!!!!!!!!**

**~Izzy, who's feeling a little better and wishes teachers didn't give as much homework as they do.  
**


	36. Liar Liar Burn In Hell

**OMG peeps a new chapter! Sorry it took me so long - I had math homework to do. And now I even have more to do, so that's what's on the menu for the rest of the night. BUT HERE'S A NEW CHAPTER FOR YOU!!!!!!**

**ok, and just a note - at the end, A-L-L-T-H-E-W-O-R-D-S-L-I-K-E-T-H-I-S are from a Ouija board.  
**

* * *

I'm not afraid of heights. I'm not afraid of water, or swimming. I'm not even afraid of airplanes. So it's really embarrassing when I'm afraid of being in a plane going over the Atlantic or Pacific. I'm afraid it's going to suddenly crash and I'll be stuck at the bottom of the ocean.

So that's why I'm curled into the fetal position in the aisle seat with my headphones jammed in my ears and my arms wrapped around my penguin. Fear of crashing into the ocean and getting stuck.

But I don't think anyone told Greg that, cause he was obviously trying to get my attention. He kept jabbing my foot his his pen and giving me the odd shake or two. But my phobia was so deep and evil-minded that I didn't even want to risk lifting my head up and accidently looking out a window.

_Ha. _Finally_ you admit that you're scared of something._

Damn voice.

_You're such a lying bastard. You can't even tell people that you're scared. No wonder you've never told them the truth about Mexico. What are you afraid of - they'll treat you differently? Too late for that, old bean - you've already got the 'Most Pitiful Agent Of The Year' Award. Not like it'd change your standing with anyone. Or will it? Got a crush going down, old girl?_

You know, that voice isn't really helpful. You read books about people who get somewhat helpful information from THEIR voices, but mine just likes to piss me off. Does it have a name, a motive? Or is it my psyche just fucking with me?

_I vote D) none of the above_.

God, I hate that voice. And it's not a lie if you don't know the truth.

_But you do. _

Shut up.

_Liar, liar, pants on fire. Liar, liar, stop yourself from catching fire._

Oh, so now you're going to quote The Used at me? Why you little . . . hold up. I'm not doing this right now. Nope, no arguing with the voice right now. I need to concentrate on people around me - I think someone just asked me a question.

"Jink? Are you asleep? Are you okay?" Oh, it's so nice when Liz acts like she gives a flaming damn about how I feel. Normally, we're cool, but as of late, she wouldn't piss on me if I were on fire. She'd actually set me on fire first, though, or make the flames bigger. She's REALLY pissed at me over the little movie.

I gave a whine-y whimper, but didn't lift my head up.

"She's afraid of the plane crashing in the water. Didn't you people know that?" Ha, Daimio's yelling at someone other than me. But he DID try to jump me after that video got around. So no benefit of the doubt for him.

Nope. Not a single one did. Wasn't often that I climbed into an airplane. Last time . . . was with Roger. And half the time, I was clinging to him worse that static. No, I _was_ static.

"Jink, this is stupid. You need to get over this," Daimio scolded.

The curses I unleashed on that man were muffled by my penguin, but I do believe I got the point across.

"Seriously, Jink, you need to get over this. We're going to be on this flight for another ten hours. So get _the fuck_ up."

I did nothing but squeeze the penguin tighter and shake my head no (well, as much as I could, anyway).

But then someone stole my penguin and ripped the headphones from my ears. I gave a shriek and snapped my eyes open, jumping up and whirling around. Daimio held my beloved Jareth in his grubby hands.

"GIVE HIM BACK!" I shouted, jumping at him. He was a good two feet taller than me, so it was really comical. Well, at the moment, it was nothing but infuriating, but I was sure that sometime in the future I would look back at this and laugh - just not now.

"Make me," he dared, nearly growling at me. With a snarl, I turned on my heel and walk to the other side of the plane, careful not to look out the window at the ocean below. Then I turned back to face him . . . .

. . . . and totally body checked him.

I had the element of surprise on my side, and I managed to snag Jareth back and lay back down on the chair.

"Asshole," I muttered, crushing my penguin closer to me. I managed to jam my iPod head phones back in my ears and went to sleep.

*************

You know, it sucks when you wake up about an hour after falling asleep and you hear people laughing. I managed to open my eyes without any trouble (thank God(dess)), but everyone scattered like bees from a hose.

"What the hell?" I muttered, sitting up. I was now laying on the floor. THAT was never good. Everyone was sitting in their respective chairs, laughing their asses off.

"What happened?" I asked, confused. "What's so fucking funny?"

"Nothing," Liz assured me.

Grumbling, I climbed back in my chair and replaced the headphones in my ears.

*************

What were we off to see today? A new frog nest? A fun zombie invasion? No, we had something even MORE fun than all of that combined.

We were off to Dracula's Castle.

Home to Vlad Tepes over four hundred years ago, he was considered the original vampire, killing his enemies on stakes and drinking their blood. A tour group went in and didn't come out, so they called US to come check it out.

Now, this is the part that confuses me - I thought that the BPRD had a European branch over here, eliminating the need for me to step on a fucking plane. But NOOOOOO, the tour group that was eaten by the castle consisted of half of the European BPRD, so WE had to go in. Damn.

The place was huge. Made entirely of stone, the place had a menacing presence. God, it was creepy. And walking into the place . . . it was a shudder moment.

"Heh, maybe Erik will come out and play," I tried to lighten myself up, thinking of _The Phantom Of The Opera_ - trust me, if you think about something else when you're scared, it helps you calm down.

"Who?" Liz asked.

"You know, Erik, as in The Opera Ghost?" I shook my head. "Jeez, Liz, get with the times."

We were in the main hall, looking around at the paintings and all the old breakable junk. We really didn't need to be breifed - we knew the deal.

"Hey," Daimio interrupted, "Let's get down to business - who's going to look where?"

Greg pulled out a card: "Are we going in pairs or are we going alone?"

"It'd be best if we looked separately," he advised. "But we'll keep in constant communication."

"Joy," I said dryly. "I call basement and torture chambers!"

"Of course you would!" Daimio snapped. "Go! And yell if you find anyone!"

I left the room, map and flashlight in hand and a two-way hooked to my belt.

"No one needs to be so grumpy," I groused.

_Tell me about it._

. . . . I'm not even going to say anything.

*************

So, um, did you know that the basement of Castle Tepes is super creepy? Cause it is. I was really freaked out. I wanted to whistle or something, try and lighten up the mood, but I had an idea that that would've been a bad idea.

"Hello?" I called out. I had found a normal room - bare. So I set myself there, and pulled out the Porta-Ouija - my portable Ouija board. I set the marker down.

"Is there anyone here?" I asked the empty room. I left the door open, in case it couldn't open doors and wanted to come in or go out. "Would you like to talk?"

The marker didn't move.

"Do you know of Vlad Tepes?" I asked.

The marker moved.

I almost jumped as it moved itself to YES.

"Is your soul trapped here?"

It moved to NO.

"So, you are here on your own free will?"

YES.

"Are you human?"

There was a pause, and the marker moved to YES.

I almost laughed. "Are you lying?"

Almost dejectedly, the the marker pulled away from YES only to move back again.

"It's okay, friend - we all lie like that. So how goes it?"

I-D-O-N-T-L-I-K-E-T-H-E-O-T-H-E-R-S-I-N-T-H-I-S-C-A-S-T-L-E

"I'm sorry, friend - they had to come. They're part of my team."

T-H-E-Y-T-O-U-C-H-E-D-A-L-L-M-Y-P-O-S-S-E-S-S-I-O-N-S

"I'm sorry," I said, and pulled out my two-way. "Just a sec." I pressed the button and ordered in a quiet voice, "Guys, stop touching anything that isn't yours!"

"What the hell?" Daimio snapped.

"Why?" Liz demanded.

"Just . . don't."

T-H-A-N-K-Y-O-U

"Don't worry about it." I put the two-way to the side. "Can I ask who you are?"

A-S-T-A-R-O-T-H

"Whoa . . . isn't that a demon name?"

YES.

"Then why haven't you tried to eat me or something?"

Y-O-U-A-R-E-N-T-O-N-E-O-F-T-H-E-C-H-I-L-D-R-E-N-O-F-G-O-D--I-T-S-Q-U-I-T-E-N-I-C-E-T-O-T-A-L-K-T-O-S-O-M-E-O-N-E-A-S-N-I-C-E-A-S-Y-O-U--Y-O-U-A-R-E-N-O-T-O-N-E-O-F-T-H-E-M

"Oh, well, uh, that's nice. I like talking to you, too."

Okay, I was beginning to panic. Let's recap:

1) I was in Dracula's Castle

2) I was in the basement of said castle

3) I was alone

4) I was _not_ alone (paradox!!!)

5) I was talking to a demon

6) Who apparently liked talking to me

I'm scared. I don't normally admit that, but right now, I was freaking out. But keep it nice and calm . . .

"So . . . do you know what happened to the people that came down here before I did?"

T-H-E-Y-W-O-U-L-D-N-O-T-S-T-O-P-T-O-U-C-H-I-N-G-M-Y-T-H-I-N-G-S--S-O-I-G-O-T-R-I-D-O-F-T-H-E-M

"Where did they go?"

H-E-L-L

"Joy. So, you know that once the others find you, you're fucked?"

W-H-O-S-A-I-D-T-H-E-Y-W-O-U-L-D-F-I-N-D-M-E

"Well, they're going to come down here . . ."

N-O-T-I-F-T-H-E-Y-D-I-D-N-O-T-H-A-V-E-T-O

"But . . . they're _gonna_ have to." Man, was this demon deaf or what?

N-O-T-I-F-Y-O-U-T-O-L-D-T-H-E-M-N-O-T-T-O

"Okaaaaaaay . . . I guess that means I don't get to leave."

N-O-P-E

And the door slammed shut and locked itself.

Oh crrrrrrrrrrrrap.

* * *

**CLIFFHANGER!!!!**

**and will we ever find out WHAT WAS SO DAMN FUNNY!?!?!?  
**

**ok, peeps, i'm off to do math homework and history notes. So love to you all, pray for my homework dilemmas, and sturff. **

**~Izzy of the mucho homework  
**


	37. It's A Blunderful Life

**Okay, so this is a wee bit shorter than the last. Hope you guys don't mind!! And this one goes out to AKA - thanks for helping me with my writer's block, man! It's nice to talk to someone other than the voices!!!**

**okay, so the same deal as the last chapter, kool? Righty-o, see ya at the end!  
**

* * *

Okay, so we know what's what? Okay, good. Back to our regularly scheduled programming . . . .

"Do I _have_ to stay here?"

YES.

"Can I at least _tell_ them not to come down here?"

YES.

"What do I tell 'em - I'm being held hostage?"

NO

"So, just 'don't come down here'?"

YES.

"Oooooo boy . . ." I pulled up my two-way. "Guys?" I asked, real quiet, "Don't come down to the basement."

"Jink, WHAT is going on?" Liz demanded.

"Yeah, what the fuck are you doing?" Daimio snapped (sheesh - can we say 'MIDOL', ladies and gentlemen?).

"Just don't, please," I pleaded. I put the two-way away - and turned it off. Oh yeah - I'm good and truly _fucked_ now.

"So . . ." I trailed off. What do you say to a demon who's basically holding you hostage? I'm sorry, but my trademarked character doesn't work well in this situation - I can't make a funny outta this.

A-R-E-Y-O-U-H-U-N-G-R-Y

"What?" I asked. Was he really asking me if I was hungry? Like he's got fries in his non-existant back pocket . . .

A-R-E-Y-O-U-H-U-N-G-R-Y--I-T-H-I-N-K-O-N-E-O-F-T-H-E-P-E-O-P-L-E-H-A-D-S-O-M-E-C-A-N-D-Y-O-N-H-E-R

"Oh," I replied. "No . . . I'm not hungry." I lay on the ground, wishing in vain that someone would come save me.

"So, let me get this straight, cause I'm still kinda confused . . " I began, "I'm being held here, correct?"

YES

"And I can't demand that you let me go."

YES

"And I can't use your name against you - since you DID give me your name." Okay, I only heard about this from books - I never really studied that much, but I DID read some books - but I wasn't too sure about it.

YES

"Can I ask why?"

Y-O-U-A-R-E-N-O-T-A-C-H-I-L-D-O-F-G-O-G--Y-O-U-C-A-N-N-O-T-U-S-E-M-Y-N-A-M-E-T-O-G-E-T-M-E-T-O-D-O-Y-O-U-R-B-I-D-D-I-N-G-L-I-K-E-T-H-A-T-F-O-O-L-V-L-A-D

"Okaaaaaaaay . . . . can I ask _why?_" This demon was beginning to piss me off.

Y-O-U-A-R-E-M-I-N-E-N-O-W

Crap. That was never good. Damn Ouija board . . . knew I shouldn't have used it. But, of course, I went against my better judgement and DID use it, and got myself into a WONDERFUL mess. So this . . . is all my fault.

_Wow, usually you blame someone else for something like this . . . way to go, you're growing up!_

And, you know, this voice doesn't make things any better.

"Shut up, voice," I snapped.

W-H-A-T

"No, not you!" I said hurriedly - last thing I wanted to do was piss the demon off. "I'm talking to the voice in my head. Sorry 'bout that."

N-O-P-R-O-B-L-E-M

_Aw, he wuves you!_

Shut up. Just . . . shut up. I don't feel like dealing with dis right now. I'd take a nap, but I don't think it's a good idea to do this right now.

I never thought that something like this would happen. I'm being held (somewhat against my will) by a demon goiing by Astorath, who says I'm his now. Don't know what all of that means, but I can only assume it's something BAD. caus everything ELSE that happens to me is.

Anyone out there? Help? Is that too much to ask?

I-K-N-O-W-Y-O-U-W-A-N-T-T-O-L-E-A-V-E-B-U-T-I-C-A-N-N-O-T-L-E-T-Y-O-U--S-O-R-R-Y

"Naw, dude, don't worry 'boot it - I'm cool chillin' here."

F-O-R-E-V-E-R

I sighed and shrugged. "Don't know 'boot that, man - I got a family, friends . . .

F-A-M-I-L-Y

"Yeah, dude - There's Abe, and Liz, and Johann, and Greg, and Daimio (although I just wanna kick his ass half the time) and Manning - he's like the boss/dad person . . ."

W-H-A-T-A-B-O-U-T-C-H-I-L-D-R-E-N

"WHOA!" Shoulda seen THAT coming. "No kids there, man. 'Fact, I'm the youngest out of all of them. Pisses 'em off, actually . . ."

S-O-S-A-D

"Not really - they don't really like kids."

T-H-E-N-W-H-Y-A-R-E-Y-O-U-T-H-E-R-E

"Oh, well, you see, I'm elektrokinetic." I let my hand sparkle in the darkness for a demonstration. "They say that I'm a danger to society, so I have to live on the compound and be 'good'."

T-H-A-T-S-O-U-N-D-S-H-O-R-R-I-B-L-E

"It's not so bad - like I said, they're my family. Sure, they piss me off sometimes, but that's what families do."

G-O-O-D-T-H-I-N-G-Y-O-U-A-R-E-N-O-T-G-O-I-N-G-B-A-C-K

"What?"

Y-O-U-A-R-E-M-I-N-E--Y-O-U-S-H-A-L-L-S-T-A-Y-W-I-T-H-M-E-F-O-R-E-V-E-R

"Don't know 'boot that, dude." I sat up, pulling my legs to my chest and wrapping my arms around my shins.

Y-O-U-H-A-V-E-T-O--Y-O-U-A-R-E-M-I-N-E

And that's when I felt this really cold sensation wrap itself around me. I jumped up, freaking out. "What the hell is that?"

I-B-E-L-I-E-V-E-I-T-I-S-W-H-A-T-Y-O-U-P-E-O-P-L-E-C-A-L-L-A-H-U-G

"Okay, well, warn me next time - you're super cold, and I can't really _see_ you."

I-C-A-N-F-I-X-T-H-A-T

Suddenly, the room felt _really_ cold. A shadow, darker than the rest of the room, appeared and grew on the wall. It grew and grew until it seemed to pull itself off the wall. It was humanoid, but had a hooded cloak on, sheiling its face.

_"Is this better?"_ it asked in a whispery voice.

Oh . . .

My . . .

God . . .

I fainted dead away.

*************

I woke up, wincing at the pain in the back of my head. Ow . . . I reached my hand back there . . . nope, no blood. I'm good - I've had worse, trust me. But I've never had a giant shadowy cloaked guy looking down at me. And damn, I still couldn't see his face!

_"I am sorry,"_ he apologized. _"I did not think that you would react in such a way."_

"Didn't think I would, either," I muttered, rolling over so I was on my hands and knees, and stood up. "Whoa. Sorry 'bout that."

_"Do not worry, you shall get used to it."_

Oh God . . . "So, you're keeping me . . . _forever?!?!"_

_"That is the general idea."_ He walked around to face me (well, as much as he could with the hood on). _"I know that this is not what you would like-,"_

"The _hell_ it is!" I interrupted.

_"But I cannot let you leave,"_ he went on.

"You know, this _sucks_," I snapped. I walked over to the wall and leaned against it. "I can't leave cause _you_ say so. You know, anyone is would be fucking _dead_ by now."

_"And why is there an exception for me?"_ he asked, walking closer to me.

"Cause you could possibly kill me," I shrugged.

_"And why would I do that?"_ he asked. _"If I wanted you dead, I would have killed you already."_

"Joy," I muttered.

_"I want you to stay with me. It gets so lonely down here. I've been waiting for someone like you for a long time."_

"_What?!?!?!"_ I shrieked, jumping off the wall.

_"Jink, when I leave this realm . . . I am taking you with me."_

"GAH!" I snapped. "That's _insane_!!! I can't _do_ that!!"

_"Fine," _he shrugged. _"Then I'll just come with you."_

He dissipated like smoke, and suddenly my vision went dark.

* * *

**holy hookers, Batman, another cliffhanger!**

**Sorry, guys, you know I love you, but I'm not sure how this little scenario is going to end . . . don't really know why he's after her. All I know is WHAT IS HAPPENING IN THE NEAR/DISTANT FUTURE. which isn't all too sure. **

**feel free to make suggestions.**

**~Izzy (who has writer's block)  
**


	38. A Little Piece Of Heaven

**Hey people! New chapter! Guess what? I have a four-day weekend to look forward to, so that means that you guys get MORE CHAPTERS! WOOT! The title comes from Avenged Sevenfold's song of the same name - i feel that it represents the story well. OMG THERE'S SOMETHING IN HERE I'VE NEVER DONE BEFORE! No, it's not a lemon, but think REAL hard . . . .**

* * *

Within seconds the smoke dissipated. Whoa . . . that was weird. I blinked a few times, trying to figure out what the _hell_ just happened. "Hello?" I called out. "You there?" There was no voice, and the Ouija board didn't move. "Hello?" I called out again. Nope, not a thing. So I did the only responsible thing I could think of.

I ran the _hell_ out of there.

I grabbed my two-way and turned it on. "Hello?" I asked nervously. "Anyone there?"

"Jink!" Liz snapped. "What the _hell_ happened? We lost the signal to your two-way for almost half an hour!"

"Sorry - I was stuck," I lied. "My bad." I hooked the two-way to my belt and ignored the crackle that spewed from it, making my way out of the room. Blah, blah, blah - same thing over and over. _Jink, what happened? Jink, what did you do _this_ time? Jink, do you need help?_ I think I can handle myself, thank you.

But as I passed the doorway, I felt this cold presence . . . Don't know if it was Astaroth or what, but it was fucking creepy. I just shook it off and made my way back.

* * *

The plane ride back was uneventful. I didn't cower in my seat this time - I sat, eyes closed, in full lotus position with the iPod in my hand and Jareth in my lap. All I had to do was focus on the music. Easy. Nothing to it.

Unless, of course, you had annoying co-workers who wanted to know what happened to you in the basement.

"Jink, what happened?" Liz kept asking.

Greg kept poking me with a pencil - since I had my eyes closed, I couldn't see if he wrote anything down.

Daimio just ignored me. Like I was used to.

_Just . . . chill,_ I thought to myself.

_That basement was creepy._

_Oh, wow, hello. Nice to hear from you again. Ready to fuck up my life some more?_

_No . . . just warning you._

_About _what_?_

_You brought home a friend._

_Screw you - you lie _so_ easily . . . how do I know you're telling the truth?_

_Just watch. And wait. You'll believe me soon enough . . ._

Sounds foreboding . . . oh well.

I closed my eyes . . . and slept.

* * *

I didn't know what the voice was talking about until a few days later, back at the base, in my shower. I know, I know - sounds like a weird place, right? Well, trust me - it wasn't meant to go down that way. There I am, relaxin' in the shower, and out of nowhere I hear this voice . . .

_"It is so nice to see you again, Jink."_

I paused, shivering as I recalled the voice's owner. Was he here?

"Hello?" I asked. "Someone there?"

_"Yes. It is _very_ nice to see you again."_

I shuddered, and lifted up the edge of the shower curtain. The shadowy figure that was in the basement of Castle Dracula was standing in my bathroom while I was taking a shower. I shrieked and let the curtain drop.

"Dude! What the hell!?!?" I snapped loudly, body against the wall. "Get the _fuck_ out!"

_"Jink, I am not going anywhere,_" Astorath said. _"I have already told you - you are mine now. Either I go with you, or you go with me. So I figured that this would be better, since we are both comfortable in this realm."_

He strode toward the bathtub and THROUGH the curtain. I freaked, since he was basically standing with me in the shower while I was naked. He tried to wrap his ghosty arms around me, but I stepped away from him, getting out of the shower and grabbing a towel.

"Okay, this is getting WAY to creepy for me," I said. "I don't . . . . what is it that you _want_ from me?

_"I want you,"_ he stated simply, floating out of the shower. _"Just you, as you are, in all your entirety._"

"Okay, dude, I don't roll like that-," I said, holding up my hands.

_"Not like that, love,"_ he gave a small chuckle, shaking his head no. He walked around behind me and managed to get his arms around me. _"Not that your form isn't simply . . . . mouthwatering,"_ he said quietly. _"I want your companionship. I want your attention. I want your compassion. I want your warmth. I want your love, or at least your friendship. I want __**you**__."_

You know, in all my years, that was probably the most romantic - and heart-tugging - thing anyone's ever said to me. Looking past the shadow-y cover, he was just someone who wanted a friend. I can do that . . . right?

"Look, man . . ." I sighed, putting my face in my hands, "I don't know . . . . I'm so confused . . ." I walked out of the bathroom and started to get dressed. No need for me to walk around nude, after all. I found my glow-in-the-dark shirt and pants - yey! I LOVE those pants!!

I lay on my bed, staring up at the ceiling, wondering when my life went to hell in a handbasket. Astaroth floated out of the bathroom and sat down on the edge of the bed, absentmindedly stroking my foot. It made me twitch - his hand was super cold and made my skin feel funny.

_"I wish there was a way to make this more comfortable for you,"_ he said sadly. _"But this is the only way I can be here . . . . with you."_

"Well, can you at _least_ let me see your face?" I snapped. "It's _really_ weird seeing you . . . with no face."

_"I do not have a face,"_ he said sadly. _"And this is my only humaniod form."_

"Well, I'm going to bed," I sighed, rolling over and pulling the blankets around me. I squeezed my eyes shut. _Please let this be over when I wake up,_ I pleaded.

_Nope. Toldja yer screwed._

Oh yes. THANK you, voice.

All of a sudden, a shuddery cold feeling descended over me. I flailed for a second, unsure of what it was, until-

_"Goodnight, my love. Sleep well. I know I shall rest well, hearing the beating of your heart."_

Oh.

My.

God.

I am . . . _so_ fucked.

* * *

I tossed and turned for most of the night, but I must have gotten some sleep, because I woke up to someone pounding on my door. With a groan, I kicked the blankets off and stumbled to the door. With a yawn, I made to open the door, only to realize that it was locked.

"Grar . . . ." I moaned. I unlocked the door and glared at the person who knocked. "Didn't know you were tired of living, Kate," I grumbled. "What?"

"Jink, what happened in the basement?" Man, can she cut to the quick or what? With her perky blonde hair and somewhat tall-ness, she could be formidable . . . if I wasn't sleep-deprived and pissed.

"Nothing happened in the damn basement," I snapped, rubbing my eyes. "I got stuck in the dungeon. Case closed."

"Not from what I heard . . ." she trailed off sadly. She pulled out my two-way from the castle. "They have built-in recording devices," she explained, and pressed a button.

_"Hello? Anyone there? Would you like to talk?"_

That was MY voice coming out of the two-way.

_"Did you know of Vlad Tepes?"_ A pause. _"Is your soul trapped here?"_ Another pause. _"Are you human?"_

The conversation went on, until you could clearly hear . . .

_"Is this better?"_

The one voice on the tape that wasn't mine.

"We know that you found _something_ in that basement, Jink," Kate went on. "We just want to know what it was."

"It was a ghost," I sighed. "_Nothing else_."

"Jink . . ." Kate trailed off warningly, putting a hand on her hip.

"Kate," I replied, matching her tone.

"Jink," she sighed, letting her arm drop, "I'm just worried, that's all. You won't come out of your room, you locked your door . . ."

"I didn't . . . . I began, but stopped. I didn't lock my door. "I'm sorry," I sighed. "I don't mean to worry you guys. What time is it?"

"About two AM," she shrugged.

"Dude," I glared, "I'm going back to sleep. Good _night_." I closed the door on her before she could say anything else. You call it rude, I call it ending the conversation.

I turned back and went back to my bed. Just as I lay down, I felt that cold pressence again.

_"Those damn humans . . ." _he swore. _"One of these days, they're going to kill you."_

"No, they're not," I assured him.

_"They cannot take care of you properly. You are much better off now that I am here."_

Huh, and I thought I was fucked a few hours ago? Now, I was doublefucked.

* * *

Oh God Oh God Oh God Oh God . . . . I was sitting at a table in the cafeteria, waiting for the inevitable panic attack when Daimio sat across from me. I didn't say anything - I waited for him to make the first move.

"So . . . how's it goin'?" he asked finally.

"It's goin'," I replied, shrugging. "How 'bout you?"

"Okay, here's the deal," he sighed, and laid out a handful of pictures. They were all dark and and of the same place. Closer inspection revealed that it was my room. Even closer inspection revealed that it was my bed - with ME in it.

But when you looked even closer, you could see a second body . . . but it was ghostly pale, and see-through.

"I want to know who this is."

I looked up at him with a bruising stare. "You came into my room . . ." I said slowly, "and took . . . _pictures_ of me . . while I was asleep." My hands curled into fists and a few lights over head began to flicker. "What . . . the . . . _fuck_."

"That's what _I_ was thinking," Daimio said slyly. "Here you are, telling me all these rumors about you aren't true . . and then I get pictures like _this_."

"It's not _like_ that!" I shouted, standing up. The Light above me burst with a shower of glass, but I didn't pay it attention. "Dammit, Ben, when you go and pull shit like this it makes me think you're nothing but a fucking bastard with too much time on his hands!"

I stormed out of the cafeteria, trying to hold back tears.

* * *

In my room, I slammed the door shut and leaned against it, sinking to the floor. I wrapped my head in my hands and rocked back and forth, trying not to cry.

_"Jink, why are you crying?"_

And that was when the tears began to flow and burn the floor.

* * *

**ha! OMG THERE'S A BIT OF ROMANCE. Okay, this chapter goes out to AKA, for all our fun conversations and for being such an awesome reader-person! This also goes out to The Rev - rest in peace, dude. So, love to you all, and I'll see you this weekend. And i apologize for any suckiness in the end.**

**~Izzy  
**


	39. WTF? And Conversations In A Shower

**heeeey people! New chapter for ya cause I love ya's! Okey-dokey, I took a few online tests - Jink is NOT Mary-Sue, but my story line is "Mary-Sue-ish" Psssh . . no, it's not . . . is it? Anyways, there's a FUN surprise for ya at the end, so see ya there!  
**

* * *

Three days.

I stayed in my room for three days.

I didn't eat for three days.

For three days, I ignored the knocks and pleas on the other side of my door.

For three days, all I had for company was my TV, my laptop, my iPod, and Astaroth.

Now, I don't mind being by myself. I really don't. I do not have monophobia. But when you're stuck in a room for three days with nothing but electronics and a demon with space issues can be incredibly annoying and trying. You could do almost everything within the space of minutes, and then be bored for the rest of the weekend.

So, I lay on my bed, thinking about the mess I was in, when Astaroth bent over my face, looking down at me. "What's up, man?"

_"Jink, can I ask you a question?"_ he asked.

"Shoot."

_"Why do you let me stay here?"_

"Because I want to."

_"Why do you like me? Why did you decide not to tell me to leave?"_

"I . . " I trailed off, trying to think. The truth was, I didn't know. I never did things like this. I didn't know what I felt towards this guy. Empathy? Sympathy? Apathy? Too many -pathy's for my taste. But I really didn't know.

"I don't know," I shrugged. "Just one of those things, I guess . . ."

_"Do you like me?"_ he asked sadly.

"Of course I do," I replied quickly. "I wouldn't let you stay here if I didn't."

_"Then why are you so sad, and staying in your room all the time?"_ He sat down next to me, looking sad and dejected (well, as much as he could without a face . . .).

"I'm not mad at you," I sighed. "I'm frustrated, confused, angry at the world . . . and I haven't had a Dr. Pepper in three days. So forgive my grumpiness."

_"That does not explain why you do not go out of your room,"_ he pointed out.

"If I go out there, then people are going to ask questions, yell at me, and try to get rid of you," I reminded him.

_"You are not doing this because of me, are you?" _he asked, sounding worried.

"Nope," I replied, popping the 'p'.

_"You should at least go out of this room and get some food. You are starting to worry me."_

Yep, three days of no food'll do that to a person. I was starting to get light-headed, though. And I think that's one of those BAD things . . .

"Well," I sighed, throwing my iPod on the bed from my pocket, "I'm going to get into the shower." I walked into the bathroom, turned on the water, and stepped in, clothes and all. Yeah, since the little incedent where Astaroth came into the shower when _**I**_ was in there, I've either forgone the shower, or went in with all my clothes. Me = extremely paranoid.

I loved my bath/shower. It was lifted off the floor, with three clawed toes on each foot. It was made from a micture of stainless steel and anti-acid polyurithane. Acid can't eat through it, and the mixture made the bath black instead of white. Perfect.

I curled into a ball at one end of the shower, and as the water fell, I cried.

Why?

I was tired. I was just plain old tired. I had a headache, and I was in what could be called a 'war' between my family and this interloper in my bedroom. _**And there was nothing I could do about it.**_

I hate feeling like this. I was just so . . . . helpless. I can't do that feeling. I was an assertive person, and being helpless was not amongst my store of feelings. And not to mention that I was going so fast.

I was sixteen, for Crissakes! Most kids my age had to worry about homework, and school, and MAYBE getting their first job! Me, _**I**_ was in the middle of a frog war, fighting with the best of 'em, trying to keep my head above the water. I don't think I can do this anymore.

Option 1: Suicide. We've tried this already - and it don't work.

Option 2: Run away. Sounds nice, but I got nowhere else to go. Try to make it out on the streets? Go to a half-way house and pray for mercy? Yeah, not likely.

Option 3: Find my parents and leave. Now, as I've already said, I don't like my 'rents. In fact, if I saw any of them today, I'd probably kill 'em afore anything else. So that's probably not a good idea.

While I was in the bathroom, having my pity party, someone knocked on the door.

"Go 'way!" I shouted, voice cracking, "I'm in the shower!!" I hid my face in my hands, praying to someone that no one would come into the bathroom.

Well, who ever I was praying to screwed me over, because the door opened and someone stepped in.

"You're in your clothes," Kate pointed out. Dammit, I forgot to close the curtain!

"So?" I snapped, face still in my hands.

"Jink, you haven't left your room in days, and you haven't eaten," she sighed. There was a scuffle of feet, and she turned the water off. "You're just sitting in your room, doing nothing."

"I don't know what to do, Kate," I said quietly, lifting my face from my hands. "I'm in too deep. I've spent too long trying to keep my head above the waves and not enough time worrying about the sharks that are circling closer and closer. I can't do it anymore."

As I talked, she knelt by the side of the tub.

"People my age don't have to worry about demons in their rooms, or fighting the frogs, or anything like that. And I don't think they were ever meant to. I feel like I'm falling apart at the seams, _**and there's nothing I can do**_**.**"

"You know what, Jink?" Kate asked. "I know how you feel. Normal people don't have to worry about these types of things. They just go along in life, not worrying about anything other than themselves. But you and me - everyone here - they were destined for more than that. And I don't think that God - or whatever god or goddess you believe in - would throw more at you than they think you can handle."

I nodded, silent, and wrapped my arms around my legs.

"I still don't know what to do about . . . him," I said at last.

"I don't know what's going down with you two, so I don't know what to do either," Kate replied. "So what's going down?"

And so I explained how everything came to be. I already told YOU guys, so I'm not going to repeat myself. I'm getting tired of saying it over and over, anyways. By the time I was done talking, I was actually partially dry and unfolding myself from the bathtub.

"Sounds like a helluva pickle, Jink," Kate mused. "I know of a few demon experts - maybe they can come explain some of this to us."

"But they won't hurt him, will they?" I asked, albeit a little nervously. "Cause that's the last thing I want to do."

"They won't hurt him - I promise," Kate assured me. "Now how about some dry clothes?"

* * *

Kate left me to get dressed. She didn't say anything about the shadow on the wall that wasn't caused bby anything. As I got dressed, I started humming, but it eventually turned into singing:

_So deep that it didn't even bleed and catch me  
Off guard, red handed  
Now I'm far from lonely  
Asleep I still see you lying next to me  
So deep that it didn't even bleed and catch me I.._

_I need something else  
Would someone please just give me  
Hit me, knock me out  
And let me go back to sleep  
I can laugh  
All I want inside I still am empty  
So deep that it didn't even bleed and catch me I..._

_I'll be just fine  
Pretending I'm not__  
I'm far from lonely  
And it's all that I've got_

_I'll be just fine  
Pretending I'm not  
I'm far from lonely  
And it's all that I've got  
_

_I guess, I remember every glance you shot me  
Un-harmed, I'm losing weight and some body heat  
I squoze so hard  
I stopped your heart from beating  
So deep that I didn't even scream fuck me, I.._

_I'll be just fine  
Pretending I'm not  
I'm far from lonely  
And it's all that I've got_

_I'll be just fine  
Pretending I'm not  
I'm far from lonely  
And it's all that I've got  
And it's all that I've got  
Yeah, it's all that I've got  
It's all that I've got  
It's all that I've got  
It's all that I've got!_

_So deep that it didn't even bleed and catch me  
So deep that I didn't even scream fuck me_

_I'll be just fine  
Pretending I'm not  
I'm far from lonely  
And it's all that I've got_

_I'll be just fine  
Pretending I'm not  
I'm far from lonely  
And it's all that I've got_

_And it's all that I've got  
Yeah, it's all that I've got _

As I walked out of the bathroom, I realized that this song pertains to SEX. After all this time, listening to it. Wow, and here I was, singing it aloud . . .

_"You want me to leave, don't you."_ Astaroth appeared suddenly beside me, sounding sad and dejected (someone needs a Happy Meal).

"No," I sighed. "I . . . just don't . . . know anything anymore."

_"If you want me to leave, just tell me,"_ he snapped, sounding bitter. _"I do not want to stay somewhere where I am not wanted."_

"No," I said forcefully. "I don't want you to leave. I'm going to get food, kick some ass, and maybe grab a new book. Don't worry about it. The _last _thing I want is for you to leave. Hear me?"

_"Yes, my love."_ I felt the coldness that was his hug. _"I new you wouldn't forgo me for one of them."_

He pulled away, and I opened my door to face the real world.

* * *

I slouched in my chair, waiting for this 'demon expert' to show his face already. There was a half-open can of Dr. Pepper in front of me; you could faintly hear the sounds of the bubbles. Around me sat random people, Manning, Kate, Liz, Greg, Johann, and Daimio.

"Whoa, so this demon thing followed you here from Romania?" Greg wrote. "Insane."

"Why didn't you tell us before?" Liz asked. She could be quite sympathetic when she wanted to be.

"I had a fun run-in with Daimio before I could really decide," I replied acidly, throwing glares his way. Damn bastard, taking pictures of me sleeping like that . . .

"Well, that was _before_ you decided to explain things to us," Daimio snapped back. "Not my fault that the pictures turned out that way!"

"You . . . _you . . . __**you . . ."**_ I sputtered, trying to think of a good insult. I was about to dive at him over the table.

"Okay, Jink," Manning said just before I lost it, "We'll get this sorted out. Where is that damn expert at?" He began to pace the room. Daimio sneered at me, and went back to studying his cup of coffee.

"So, who _is_ this guy?" I asked.

"Yes," Johann added. "You would think that with this kind of experience, we would have met him in this line of work a while ago."

"His name is Derek Brown," Kate replied. "I've known him for almost ten years. He's _very_ good at his work."

"He better be," Liz said quickly. "To think you've spent all this time with a DEMON in your room . . . . talk about traumatizing . . ."

"It wasn't THAT bad," I said, starting to feel that ever-present rage again. "It was all cool. The only problem was that he kinda invaded my space that first night . . ."

Liz was about to ask EXACTLY what happened, but the door opened and a tall-ish man with brown hair stumbled in, carrying a pile of books that he let fall on the table.

"Sorry it took me so long - I didn't know what texts to bring," he spewed his excuse. "I wasn't really told the nature of the problem."

"NO ONE was until about five minutes ago," Kate replied, shaking his hand. "Everyone, this is Derek Brown. He's a professor of demonology. Professor Brown, this is Captain Ben Daimio, Liz Sherman, Gregory Langelaan, and Jink."

"Heh, Jink is kinda a funny name for someone," he joked, looking my direction.

"Shut the fuck up," I snapped. Like 'Derek' was any better. I looked up at him to see him staring at me in the strangest way. "Hellooooooooooo?" I called, waving a hand in front of my face. "Anyone there? You know, a picture lasts longer and doesn't make one uncomfortable-,"

"Your name isn't Jink," he said, with a far-off look in his eyes, "It's Ashley."

"No, it's not," I protested. "Haven't gone by that name since my bitch mother left me on a corner when I was six."

"So that's what Cristy did to you?" he asked, eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

"Who the hell is Cristy?" I shot back. "Just who the hell _are_ you?"

"Your father."

* * *

**ha! A Cliffhanger!!!!! how'd ya like THEM apples? Okay, so the song is ALL THAT I'VE GOT by The Used. Yes, I've used it before, and it's true - only when I looked at it REAL HARD did I realize it's all about SEX. And to think, I'VE been going around singing it . . .**

**Well, have a nice day (night), don't blow nothin' up without me, and review. that's all I got for right now.**

**~Izzy  
**


	40. I Don't Remember

**omg, people, FORTY CHAPTERS!!! I've never gone this long with something! I love that y'all love it, but if you love it MORE, you'd review!!! please? As a late V-day present to me? Anyway, I won't keep you long - know you ALL loved that cliffhanger . . .  
**

* * *

I couldn't believe it. This man who was a supposed demon expert is now saying that he's my father. What now - is he going to ask me to join the dark side? Ha - Star Wars reference. Man, that would be something fun to watch later, with its fun plot and fantastical alien races . . . hold on, no spacing here, Jink, focus on the weird guy.

"No way," I snapped. "_My_ dah left when I was born. And he weren't no demon expert/professor guy."

"Exactly - I left when you were born, but I came back a few years later," he explained. "Your mother said that you were taken away because of your powers."

I looked from him to everyone at the table, mouth agape. I was actually _speechless_. The only thought running through my mind was _What the FUCK?!?!?_ But then a new thought hit me, and I smiled a wry smile.

"_I_ know what's going on," I said, still smiling. "I'm _hallucinating,_ cause I haven't _eaten_ in three days. I bet I'm still in the shower." I sat down, smiling to myself. "Just wait - any minute now, I'm going to wake up, totally soaked to the bone." Yes, how serene - I'm hallucinating from lack of food.

"What do you mean, haven't eaten in three days?" Derek asked angrily. "What the hell are you people _doin'_ here?"

"Pardon _us_," Manning spat, "But she did this to _herself_. Ask her to show you her wrists."

_"What?"_ he shouted. I winced.

"You know, I can't _believe_ this crap," Daimio interjected. "You suddenly come _waltzing_ in here, saying you're her _father?_ Yeah, _not_ likely!"

"You want me to prove it?" Derek shot back.

"Yeah!" Daimio snarled.

Wow, things were getting tense.

"Jeez," Liz muttered, "This is creepy weird."

"You're telling me," I sighed. "Wonder how long they'll be at it."

Greg pulled out a new card and wrote, "I don't think she was talking about the two of them fighting . . ."

"Huh?" I asked, confused, when I felt that signature coldness.

_"Jink, what is the matter? Is there something wrong? You feel angry . . ."_

"No, it's nothing, Astaroth," I assured him. "Don't worry 'boot it."

_"Who is this man?"_

"Oh, he thinks he's my dah, but what someone didn't tell him is that I don't HAVE one."

_"JINK!!!"_ Liz hissed at me. "_What the HELL is that?!?!?"_

"Oh, this is Astaroth," I said. "Sorry, Astaroth, this is Liz and Greg, I think you've already met Kate, that's Manning, the man in the body containment suit is Johann, and the guy over there arguing with the brown-haired jackass is Daimio."

_"It is a pleasure to meet you all,"_ he replied cordially. By this time, everyone had stopped talking and was staring in my direction, to what I assumed to be a dark shadow over my shoulder. Even Daimio and Derek had stopped arguing.

"What?" I shrugged.

"So _that's_ your problem?" Derek finally asked. "That's . . . wow . . . I've never really seen anything like that before."

"Well, THAT helps!" Daimio shouted at him. "So HOW the hell are we going to fucking FIX this?!?!"

"Well, I think-," I began.

"I _don't know!_" Derek spat back.

"Maybe we can-," I tried again.

"Yeah, WAY TO GO!" Daimio shouted. "No WONDER Jink doesn't like you!"

"This is ridiculous," Manning said, trying to get bewteen the two men. Within minutes, they would be at blows.

"Everyone, please-," Kate tried to stop them.

"AND WHAT IS **THAT **SUPPOSED TO MEAN?" Derek bellowed. I looked from Liz, who appeared horrified, to Greg, who looked the same (well, as horrified as a cockroach can look). There was only one thing I could do.

"THAT IS **ENOUGH!"** I shouted, standing up. "EVERYONE, _SHUT THE __**FUCK**__ UP!"_ Well, THAT certainly got their attention. They all stopped yelling and glared at me.

"Language, young lady!" Derek said, abashed.

"Ex_cuse_ me?" I said slowly. "I'm sorry, but for the past _fifteen years_, I didn't have a father, and for the past _eleven,_ I didn't have a mother. So don't you _dare_ "young lady" me, asshole!" I turned to Liz and Greg. "I'm going to get a sandwhich, grab the 'pod, and go work out for a bit," I told them. "So yell if you need me."

"So you do not even want to talk to this man who claims to be your father?" Johann asked.

"Yeah, don't you want to talk to this guy?" Liz asked.

"Not even if my life and iPod depended on it," I replied in a monotone.

Liz was going to ask something else, but Greg beat her to it.

"Will do," Greg wrote.

"But-," she tried to say, but Greg cut her off with a card, holding it so only she and Johann could see it.

"Fine," she sighed. "Go do what you need to do."

"Just don't hurt yourself," Johann replied in a tired tone.

"Thanks," I grinned.

* * *

I sighed, running on the treadmill. The beat was hypnotizing and was starting to calm my nerves. Astaroth had sensed my need of wanting to be alone and had left, saying he'd be back in my bedroom. The pouning rhythm and music was the perfect therapy.

_Cut yourself in conversation  
Cut the line to make me feel alive  
'Cuz you know I'm not alive  
_

_And leave me with your complications  
Take your life, you feel like taking mine  
Meeting god we stand in line, not alone_

_Nowhere to go, I'm not leaving  
Not going, I'm not kissing you goodbye  
On my own, I'm nothing  
Just bleeding, I'm not kissing you goodbye_

As I was running, Derek came into the gym, and walked over to me. I cranked the iPod louder.

_Trust to take the right to leave me  
Waiting under dark clouds for the rain  
Praying lightning strikes a change_

_As history gets lost and  
As I took that final breath I felt alive  
Meeting god to stand in line, all alone_

You know, at first glance, he didn't look like me at all. But a closer look revealed his brown hair was just a shade lighter than mine, and his eyes were the same hazel-ish green, and his face seemed small and heart-shaped. He was somewhat short - espescially compared to Daimio - and his skin seemed pale, even compared to mine.

But I refused to say that I shared his genes.

_Nowhere to go, I'm not leaving  
Not going, I'm not kissing you goodbye  
On my own, I'm nothing  
Just bleeding, I'm not kissing you goodbye_

_Don't let me go, don't say good bye  
'Cuz know that I'm not alive  
Don't let me go, don't say good bye  
Don't let this die  
Don't let me go, don't say good bye  
'Cuz know that I'm not alive  
Don't let me go, don't say good bye  
Don't let this die_

He tried to get my attention, waving his hands in front of my face. I responded by cranking the tunes even louder and flipping him the bird.

_Nowhere to go, I'm not leaving  
Not going, I'm not kissing you goodbye  
On my own, I'm nothing  
Just bleeding, I'm not kissing you goodbye  
_

_I'm not kissing you goodbye  
I'm not kissing you goodbye_

As the music faded, I could start to hear what he was saying: "-and I can't believe you just flipped me off like that! Are you even _listening_ to me?"

"Nope," I replied bitterly. "No go the fuck away."

"Ashley-,"

"My name is NOT Ashley!" I snapped. "For the LAST time!"

"What's so wrong with having me with a father?" he snapped at me.

"You know what's wrong?" I growled, "_Not_ having parents for all the hard times - death, depression, _suicide . . _ yeah, going through all that - all of my _childhood_ - without parents don't make me want 'em."

_"Suicide?"_ he nearly shrieked.

"Yeah, _Dad_," I spat out the word, and held up my wrists, showcasing the scars I still wore. "My best friend - my _brother_ - died, and I slit my wrists. Where the _fuck_ were you?"

"Ashley," he pleaded, "Please, just let me-,"

"Dammit, my name _is not ASHLEY!"_ I shouted, my voice getting louder with each word. I turned off the treadmill and began to walk away.

"Jink, please," he tried again, "Just give me _one chance!_ It's all I ask!"

"If you don't leave me alone _right now . . ."_ I began in a threatening tone.

"Please, baby girl, I just want to redeem myself!" he was practically on his knees _groveling_.

And I snapped all over his face. I seriously snapped. For a second, I actually thought I had heard the actual noise, but then I realized that it was the sound of my left fist hitting his face. I don't know what made me do it - be it the pet name, the groveling, the action of not leaving me alone, or just the fact that I didn't like him - but indeed I snapped.

And I wasn't through with him, either.

He tried to stand up, and I shoved him into the wall. I got him with an uppercut to the jaw, enjoying the satisfaction of hearing bones crunch. I kneed him in the gut, and let him fall to the ground.

"Listen, _Derek_," I spat the name with distaste, "From this point on, you do not _follow_ me, you do not _touch_ me, and you do _not_ refer to me as your daughter. As far as I'm concerned, you died the day you walked out on me."

I turned and walked away, but within seconds I felt something jump me from behind. I hit the ground hard, but I had enough time to stop my nose from making contact with the concrete.

"Listen, Jink, I _know_ that I've wronged you in the past . . ." Oh crap, it was _him_.

"Get OFF!" I screamed, my voice rising an octave. "HEEELL-,"

I was cruelly cut off has he latched a hand over my mouth.

"_Listen,_" he hissed, "I'm _sorry_. Why can't you _accept_ that? All that I did was in your _best interest._"

I didn't hear this - I was being transported back in time, to that fateful day in Mexico. I was almost frozen, and I began to cry . . . again. Crap, I was doing a lot of that lately, wasn't I? Maybe that's where this killer headache is coming from . . .

He hissed as my tears hit his hands - for once I was thankful of my acid tears - but he held his hand over my face regardless.

"I love you - you're my _daughter_," he went on. "I may not have been there for you when you needed me, but I can assure you I'll be there in the future." I shivered as I felt him lean closer to my ear. "You just have to trust me."

This, coupled with the horrible memories and feeling of him on me, made logic fly OUT the window and panic take over. I bit his hand, making him yelp and let go. Then I shocked his ass until I felt him go limp, and shoved him off.

I crawled over to the wall, trying not to hyperventilate, curled into a boneless lump of tears, panic, and adrenaline. And that's how I was found about twenty minutes later.

* * *

Derek and I were taken to the infirmary: Derek for shock treatment and to dress the wounds I inflicted, me to talk it out and get a little something to calm me down.

We were put in beds next to each other, but after some cajoling (coughbitchingcough) I got them to hang a curtain between us. I leaned back as I waited for the watered-down morphine to kick in. Liz and Kate had pulled up chairs and barred anyone else from talking to me - something about a 'girl's only' chat.

"What the hell happened down there, Jink?" Liz asked. "We found you freaking out and _him,_" she motioned towards the curtained-off bed, "Beaten and shocked. What's the deal?"

"I know that him coming out and saying something like that was a _complete_ surprise - to all of us," Kate went on, "But that's no reason to beat him half to death."

"You didn't hear him," I said quietly - I was still riding the panic wave from all the memories. "You weren't there . . so scared . . . . no way out . . . "

"What happened?" Liz repeated, more firmly.

"I was running," I recounted in a far-off voice, "And he came in . . . spouting some shit about how I shoulda gave him another chance . . . I left him there, but he wouldn't leave me alone . . . and I snapped. I told him to basically fuck off, but when I turned to leave . . . he was on me . . . so close . . . memories . . . I-I panicked."

Kate looked like I totally confused the hell out of her, but Liz had some sympathy (and good memory recollection). "You're talking about what happened in Mexico, aren't you," she said - it wasn't a question.

I nodded numbly.

"Wait - what?" Kate asked.

"A while back, Jink told us about what really happened in Mexico," Liz explained.

"No, I didn't," I interjected.

"What?" Now it was Liz's turn to be confused.

"I lied. Some elements of that story were made-up. I'm a fucking liar. The truth is . . . ."

And the truth came _pouring_ out.

Damn that morphine.

* * *

I don't remember much after that, so don't ask me if I do.

I don't remember the tears, the shouting, the accusations, the acceptance.

I don't remember closing my eyes.

I don't remember someone pulling the blanket up over me.

I don't remember the dark shadow that enveloped and held me as I slept.

As I've said, I don't remember, so please don't ask me.

* * *

**ha! NOT a cliffhanger! How's the next part going to go? Are we EVER going to find out what was so funny in that one chapter? Don't worry - you will in one of the next chapters! But, anyway, I want to thank everyone for sticking with me this long. this story really has turned into my baby, and it makes me happy to see how many people love it. The song is KISSING YOU GOOD-BYE by The Used. **

**Well, until the night blesses us once more, so long and goodnight.**

**~Izzy  
**


	41. Behind Closed Doors

**Hey hey hey! I'm not going to keep you long, so here ya go!  
**

* * *

I got to leave a few hours later, thankfully before _that man_ did - they were keeping him sedated because I busted a few of his teeth out. If you can't tell, I'm actually trying not to laugh, so don't talk about it, or else I'll burst out at the WORST time. But yeah, I left. I tread carefully - by now, my little secret was all over the BPRD. My stomach was one big panic-knot, and I was seconds away from a needless and debilitating panic attack. I kept my head down and walked fast.

I ignored someone shouting my name - no confrontations here, please. I walked on the balls of my feet, knowing that it would actually help me go faster. But this person was set on talking to me. Dammit. I was short of running for my life when I thought I felt someone try to latch onto my shoulder.

I let out a wordless scream and whirled, fists ablaze, to find . . .

. . . . no one.

No one shouting my name, no one behind me, no one touching me.

_That's because you're going insane. Mentally deteriorating. In lament terms: __**YOU ARE SOOOO FUCKED.**_

Oh, THANK you voice. Just what I wanted to hear.

I sighed, and turned around to start heading back to my room. That was when I ran straight into a wall - or what I assumed to be a wall. I fell to the floor. I didn't move to get up. I was kinda phazed - I was so weirded out right now, I didn't have that 'get-up-and-go'-ness to actually get up and GO.

Manning looked down at me, puzzled. "Jink, what the hell are you doing down there?"

"I fell," I stated simply.

"Are you going to get up?" he asked.

"Nope."

"Not even for some Dr. Pepper?"

"Nope."

"What if I told you that if you DIDN'T get up, then I'll cut _off_ your Dr. Pepper for a month?"

I stared at him for a moment, and rolled over so I was on my hands and knees so I could get up. As I leaned onto the wall, Manning nodded (wtf?) and went on his merry way.

I took the moment to fall back on the floor.

* * *

_"Jink? Is there a reason you are sleeping on the floor?"_

I must have fallen asleep, because I had to shake myself out of a sleepy stupor and open my eyes to see my shadow looking down at me.

"Huh?" I yawned.

_"Why are you sleeping on the floor?"_ he asked again.

"Oh, I fell down and then I fell asleep," I shrugged as much as I could while laying on the floor. "Go figure."

_"Are you okay? Is your head okay? Do you have a concussion?"_ he fired each question in quick succession, and I felt his coldness as he got closer. _"Oh, curse this intangible body!"_

"No, no, I'm okay,"I assured him, standing up again. "It's okay - don't worry 'boot it."

_"No, it's NOT okay!" _he replied, growling _right_ in my ear. _"I can't even help you up! DAMN this coporeal form of mine!"_

"No, don't worry about it," I yawned, stretching. "Just don't yell in my ear no more, cool?"

Silence.

"Hello? Astaroth?"

Silence.

"Fine. _Go_ sulk. See if _I_ care." With a huff, I stormed off.

_Jink, hello?_

Hey, **I** knew that voice! _Ebony! Love, where __**you**__ been? For a bit there, I thought that you flew the coop!_

_I was going to, child - for an atmoshpere a little less stifling - but I sensed that you needed me. care to join me in your wonderful little cave? _

_Will do, cap'n. Ten-four._

_What on earth does __**that**__ mean?_

_Means I'll be there._ Sheesh . . . don't need to get all mad at me . . .

* * *

Within twenty minutes, I had gotten my shoes on and was making my way through the woods trying to find my loverly little cave. All the way there, thoughts buzzed through my head - where had she been? Why did she leave? And what would have happened to make her say that I 'needed' her? Man, I was getting confused.

I found the mouth of the cave easily - WAY easier than the LAST time. I crawled through the new debris, until I came to the cavern and found my wonderful purple dragon, sitting in the main cavern and the size of a large horse.

"Ebony!" I laughed, totally glomping her. "Dude, haven't seen you in _ages_. How you livin'?"

_Girl, I thought I told you not to refer to me as 'dude',_ she growled.

"Sorry, love - heat of the moment all," I shrugged, trying not to laugh. "So how goes it?"

_You are in trouble, Jink._

"Explain." I sank to the ground, keeping my eyes on hers.

_You know that you have been followed by a demon, correct?_

"Yeppers."

_And you know this demon is completely infatuated by you, correct?_

"I was halfway aware of that, yes."

_Your demon has left this realm to seek help from your goddess. To gain a physical form_.

I was stunned.

"Oh," I finally said.

_Yes,_ she mused, _Apparently being a spectre wasn't good enough for him, so he's off to see if your goddess will grant him a human body in the name of his love for you._

"Oh, GREAT!" I groaned. "Man, I like the guy - he's pretty cool for a demon and all - but I got me a BAD feeling. Not just a bad feeling, or a _bad_ feeling, this is a BAD feeling, all caps."

_But that is not the worst danger._

"_What_?" I snapped. "_What_ next?"

* * *

_Tom Manning strode into the room, making sure the door was shut firmly behind him - the last thing he wanted was an intrusion. He had called the meeting in one of the smaller conference rooms. He didn't need the bigger ones - there weren't THAT many people coming._

_He sat at the head of the table, looking at the faces of all of them. Ben, Kate, Liz, Gregory . . . God, he didn't want to do this . . ._

_"You know why I called you here," he began. "We need to do something about Jink."_

_"What do you mean, "do" something about her?" Liz asked crossly. "She's done nothing wrong."_

_"That's not the problem," Manning persisted. "I'm afraid that she's mentally deteriorating. She's becoming a danger to herself - and others."_

_"Meaning . . ." Ben trailed off._

_"That we're going to have to lock her in the Vault."_

_Looks of surprise and shock went around the table. The Vault was the nickname of the cells in the bottom of the base for monsters that were too hard to kill and too dangerous to be free. It was were Daryl had been originally held, and now the actual compound was empty._

_"No way!" Liz shouted, jumping from her chair. "She's _sixteen years old!_ She is _not_ a monster!"_

_"I never said she was," Manning replied, trying to stay patient. "I'm only doing this for her own good and for the well-being of my agents. She's a _walking time bomb_, and I will not have were walking around the base."_

_"Wait," Kate said, holding a hand up, "So you're going to lock her up over what? I haven't seen any real causes for her to be treated like she was a mindless monster."_

_"So, you didn't know about her little 'friend'?" Manning snapped. "Or the fact that she's hearing voices? Today, I saw her running down the hall, and she tried to attack whatever was chasing her. __**But there was nothing there.**__ I stood _right_ in front of her, and she didn't see me."_

_"That doesn't mean that you go lock her up like a monster!" Ben snapped. _

_"Yeah," Gregory wrote, holding up his card, "You know, it's called paranoid schizophrenia. There's medicine she can take for that. And if you don't want her here, then stick her in a mental hospital."_

_"She's too dangerous for that," Manning pointed out. "What would they do if she freaked out and shocked the place with all she had? It wouldn't work. The only place she'd be safe is here."_

_"No."_

_"What?" Manning asked. "What do you mean, "no", Ben?"_

_"I mean no," he stated, arms crossed and glaring at Manning. "She's not dangerous. "You don't have to lock her up."_

_"Then regale us _why_," Manning said dryly._

_"I know what's she's going through," Ben explained, "The voices, the paranoia, _everything_. It's not her fault."_

_"None of it is," Greg added._

_"I'm going through the same thing," Ben went on. "It's a side affect from when she saved me a few months back. It's nothin' she can't get through."_

_"In case you haven't noticed, Jink's beein going through a lot of crap lately," Liz reminded him. "Roger, that thing with slitting her writsts, and now her father's showed up."_

_"Not to mention what she told us," Kate added. "Poor girl . . ."_

_"What?" Manning asked. "What did she tell you?"_

_"What __**really**__ happened in Mexico," Kate explained. "Everything."_

_"I thought she already told us that," Ben sighed._

_"Well, apparently, she did a few edts to the _first_ version," Liz replied. "She told us . . ."_

_"She told us she was raped." Kate finished._

_The silence in the room was so thick it could be cut with a butter knife. _

_And that's when the shouting began. Everyone shouting at everyone, threats and verbal abuse flying like mini bombs at everyone else. _

_Manning sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his left hand. After a few moments of shouting and yelling, he looked up at them and, nearly shouting, ordered everyone to sit down and calm down. The shouting ceased, and one by one, they all sat down._

_"We have a shrink waiting for her, to test how far gone she is," Manning went on, his tone commanding. "I have Johann and a few other agents out looking for her now. If it turns out she's not that bad, then MAYBE we'll go the medication route. But if she's too far gone to help . . . then there's nothing we can do."_

* * *

"What?" I snapped. "What next?"

"JINK?" someone was at the mouth of the cave, shouting. "ARE YOU THERE? WE NEED TO TALK TO YOU!!!"

"NO!" I shouted back. "GO AWAY!"

"JINK! GET OUT HERE!" the person shouted again. I walked to the edge of the cavern and looked out. Just _barely_ at the mouth of the cave I saw two shadows. Humanoid in shape.

Didn't want to assume anything, so I called out, "WHO IS IT?"

"IT'S ME!" Oh, hey, I knew that person - Johann.

"WASSUP, JOHANN???" I shouted back. "HOW YOU LIVIN'?!?!"

"JINK, GET **OUT** HERE!"

"Fine," I sighed, standing up and brushing off my pants. Ebony lept up and changed size, landing on my soulder with ease.

_I don't trust them,_ she told me.

"I'm sorry," I sighed, shoving my hands in my pockets. "But there's nothing I can do."

We finished the walk to the mouth of the cave silently. I didn't know what was going down with Ebony all of a sudden, but I had to put a stop to that RIGHT NOW.

At the mouth of the cave, we met up with Johann and Agent Johnson, plus this new guy in a tan coat and big ol' glasses.

" guys!" I waved. "Guess who came back?"

_Only because you need me,_ Ebony chastised. _I'm not staying for very long - only to make sure _this_ one is going to take care of you._

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," I muttered, giving the new guy a once-over. "Who's he?"

"This is Sidney Leach," Johann introduced.

"Hey there!" Sidney waved, enthusiastic. "How are you?"

"I'm fine?" I replied, making it sound more like a question. I turned to Johann, and asked, "So what's with the hunting party? I can handle myself, thanks . . ."

"I believe Manning has something to ask you," Johann replied, sounding nervous. Wow, he was NEVER worried or nervous. What's up wit dat?

"What's the man want know?" I sighed. "Everytime I go to his office he's got BAD news."

"Not this time," Johann promised.

Heh, yeah RIGHT.

* * *

I stepped into Manning's office, Ebony still hanging on my shoulders. I sat down in the availible chair and sighed, "What now, _sir_?"

"Jink . . . " Manning sighed, "We need to have a talk about your preformance here at the BPRD."

Oh God . . . "Am I getting fired?" I asked, starting to panic.

"No, no, nothing _too_ much like that," Manning assured me.

OH GOD!!! "Then _what_ are we going over?" I snapped. "What have I done wrong?"

"It's nothing that you did," Manning went on, "We worried about . . . you."

"Me," I said plainly.

"You've shown signs of deteriorating mentally. We're just going to do some tests . . . to see how we can help you."

_See, Jink?_ Ebony growled in my ear. _This man is trying to get rid of you._

_And __**I**__ told you about the mentally deteriorating bit. This joker's stealing my line!_

I sighed irritably and rolled my eyes, "So, what's this test? I don't have all day."

He pushed a packet of papers at me, and a pen. "Get started," he ordered primly.

* * *

**1. Do you have suicidal thoughts or feelings? **Yes.

**2. Have you hurt yourself on purpose?** Yes.

**3. What have you done? **I slit my wrists - jeez, you people KNOW that already.

**4. Are you currently on medications? **No.

**5. Have you consumed controlled substances in the last six months?** No.

**6. Have you lost a family member in the last year?** Yes.

**7. Do you have any allergies? **No.

**8. Do you hear voices?** No - I hear ONE voice.

**9. Have you ever experienced paranoia?** Yes.

**10. Have you ever blacked out and woken up in a strange place with no recollection of how you got there? **No.

The questions went on and on and on . . . Oh Goddess, help me.

* * *

I slouched into my room, not bothering to turn on the lights. I made my way by touch to my bed, and collapsed on it without ceremony. Question after question . . . I shuddered - that was torture. As I rolled over, I ran into something . . . solid. I reached my hand out and felt something . . . warm.

Someone was laying in my bed.

I jumped up, sending out my electric field to defend myself and to create light. In my bed was a man, about the age of twenty, with dark hair and even darker eyes. His clothes could have come straight out of my closet, and he was wearing a goofy, smug grin.

"Hey, love," he said, still smiling and laying on my bed. "How have you been?"

In shock, I let my static fade.

"Astaroth?"

* * *

**okay, so the section that was in all italics was of the third person point of view, but I think you knew that. Sorry if this seems short, but i have some huge stomach cramps that are being cause by nothing and all the not bath water is gone. . the title comes from BEHIND CLOSED DOORS by Rise Against. it's a good song!!!!**

**~Izzy**


	42. All I Ask Of You

**nothing new . . . hope you enjoyed the cliffhanger! XD!  
**

* * *

Holy crap. He'd done it. Astaroth, my intangible demon friend, had gotten himself a body. A NICE LOOKING one, too . . . NO! BAD brain! _Focus_ on the problem here . . .

"Whoa, man . . ." was all I could really get out. And I couldn't stop staring . . . GAH! CURSE his good-looking self!

"Do I look okay?" he asked. His voice still had that somewhat whispery sound to it, but now it sounded more . . . human.

"Lookin' good, man!" I said, giving a thumb's up and a weak smile. "Like, REALLY good . . . are those _my_ pants?"

"I'm sorry," he apologized quickly, getting off the bed with a bounce, "She brought me back without giving me clothes, and I do believe that your friends would not like me to walk around without those anymore, and your closet was closest and your pants fit me beautifully."

"Well, it's nice to see someone who shares my penchat for black," I joked. One part of me was going, "Oh . . . My . . .God . . . he's HOT . . .", while another part was going, "Oh God . . . why would he do that? Is he expecting something from me that requires a body? OH GOD . . .". But then the biggest part was going, "_**RAWR DR. PEPPER RAWR RAWR RAWR!!!**_" but I digress.

Okay, I knew three things:

1. I was tired.

2. Astaroth now had a BODY, and our prior sleeping arrangements had a few problems with them.

3. There was only ONE bed . . .

You know what _that _means, boys anf girls? Means I'm sleeping in the tub tonight. I know, I should make HIM sleep in the tub, I'm too nice for that, and the last thing I need is for him to wake up grumpy because of a back ache. But there was NO law that said I had to lay in that tub right now if I was tired.

I trudged over to the bed and fell face-first into the covers without preamble. Those tests had taken the majority of the night and it was nearly midnight. And the thought of more tests in the morning made me want to scream.

So I did.

"FUCK my LIFE!" I shouted halfheartedly into the covers. I might have yelled more, that would require energy that I didn't have. Damn.

"Jink, what is wrong?" Astaroth asked. He sat down on the bed next to me and began to stroke my hair.

"They think I'm mentally unstable," I growled into the bed. "Saying I'm a danger to everyone around me. Like I'd _hurt_ one of them . . ."

"You never would," he agreed, continuing to stroke my hair. Man, he had some magic fingers or something - the tension I was feeling seemed to melt away under his touch.

"But what if I do?" I asked, turning my face away from the bed. "What if I black out and hurt someone? Or one of them gets caught in a crossfire?"

"Jink, accidents happen in your line of work," he assured me. Astaroth had gone from stroking my hair to skimming his fingers along my back. "You can not tell me that you've never been burned or cut on accident. There is nothing anyone can really do."

"They can lock me up forever or put me on psycho meds," I scorned. My eyes were drooping closed. God I was tired . . .

"I would never let that happen," he promised. I felt him move closer and wrap his arms around my waist.

I nearly jumped out of my skin.

I jumped off the bed and out of his arms, leaving a hurt look on his face. "Look, Astaroth," I started, "I-I'm not sure if I'm too comfortable with all this . . ."

"You were just a moment ago," he pointed out, hurt.

"I'm sorry," I sighed. "I'm tired, and I'm not doing this right now. I'm going to bed." I grabbed a random blanket and pillow off of the bed and made my way into the bathroom.

Astaroth jumped up from the bed and followed me into the bathroom. "Do you not trust me?" he asked. "Did I do something wrong?"

"It's not _you_ I don't trust," I pointed out, making sure the tub was dry, "It's the people around here that think they can WALTZ into people's rooms and take pictures when a person is SLEEPING. Especially when _**I**_ am said person who gets photos taken of."

"Who did this?" Astaroth growled murderously. "I shall make sure that no one finds their body once I am through with them!"

"Don't worry 'boot it, man, it's over and done with," I assured him. "You and me are just going to lay low for a while. Watch some movies, eat some munchies - it'd be cool. Just got to get these tests done and all's well."

"You do what you deem necessary, love," Astaroth sighed, wrapping his arms around my waist, "So long as I get to be with you, I shall be happy." I leaned into his touch, enjoying the warmth that seemed to radiate from him.

_What the HELL is wrong with you?_

Oh joy, you're back . . . Listen, next time you leave, can you _stay_ gone?

_This isn't going to end well._

Oh, why's that?

_This is going to blow up in your face. Just watch._

Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence!

_You're welcome!_

* * *

You know, sleeping in a bath tub isn't all that comfortable, despite how many people do it on television. It's not that soft, and then there's that incline at one end. A blanket and a pillow do little to cushion the hardness of a tub, especially MINE. So I got little to no sleep that night. By four in the morning, I had had enough and left the tub for a better endeavor - Dr. Pepper retrieval.

At four in the morning, there are still people walking around, but at the moment it was as silent as a tomb. One that WASN'T filled with zombies. I managed to get to the kitchen with no run-ins with people. Trust me, that is the LAST thing any of us want.

I grabbed my beloved soda and popped the tab, sighing at the sound of fizzing bubbles. A Dr. Pepper by any other name is still just as wonderful . . . I nearly chugged the thing. When all of it was gone, I tossed the can and grabbed a few more, taking them with with me to a table. Yep, that was a good moment - sitting at a table, at four in the morning, drinking my way through a half-dozen cans of soda. Can't get better than that.

Of course, I was lulled into a sense of contentment and lowered my guards . . . but I had this creepy feeling that someone was behind me, so I whiled around, holding a random utensil as a sword, and said, "HI-YA!"

Greg jumped back, and pulled out a card and pen: "I don't think you can hurt me with a spoon, but I wouldn't put it past you."

"Oh, sorry, man," I threw the spoon back onto the table, "Instinct. Paranoia. Jumpyness. Pick your poison."

"Why are you drinking Dr. Pepper this early?" he wrote, settling down in the chair across from me.

"Why are you in the kitchen so early?" I asked back. "Insomnia."

"I'm not an insomniac - I was hungry," Greg explained, proving it by daring to steal one of my cans and popping it open. You know, it's weird seeing Greg eat or drink anything, but it's cool at the same time.

"What makes it so hard to sleep?" Greg wrote after downing half a can. "Demon in your dreams?"

"More like a demon in my _bed_," I groaned. "Somehow, someway, Astaroth got himself a body, and is now sleeping in my BED."

"WHAT?" Greg wrote in all caps and underlined a couple times.

"Yeah, he got a body and now he's all OVER me," I grumbled, tossing a can and opening another. "Not saying that I don't like it - the man's got body karate goin' _on_ - but it's . . awkward. I was never one to be coddled or held like he's trying to do."

"It's called "molestation", Jink. Look into it." They way he wrote it made him seem bitter and angry.

"Dude, chill," I said, trying to calm him down. "It's all cool. We're gonna have a talk after all the fun _tests_ I have to do later, and badda-bing, we're in business."

"You sound like the Don to the Mafia," Greg pointed out.

"Well, Ma's maiden name, if I can recall correctly, was - is - Gliori," I laughed. "But yeah, cool's cool, and crap like that."

"You know, he shouldn't be all in your room and touching you," Greg wrote. "Makes people talk."

"Exactly!" I said, exasperated. "I try and totally clear my name, tell people I don't _do_ that, then here _he_ comes and he makes all my tries in vain!" I put my head in my hands. "I'm never going to live this down . . ."

"So, if he's in your bed, then where did YOU sleep?" Greg asked.

"The bathtub?"

I was rewarded with a card just baring a question mark and a confused and pissed Gregory.

"Yeah," I went on, "I thought about the floor, but the bathtub seemed like a more logical choice. But it was hells cramped, so I had to get out and get some sugar in me."

"Jink, this is SO not cool," Greg wrote out in a flash. "This weird demon-turned-human is sleeping in YOUR bed? Tell him to get his ass up and sleep on the floor! He's just some creepy stalker!"

_"Is . . . it . . . o-kay if I stalk you?"_ I began to sing, _"Just want to make sure you're okay - that you're behaving while I'm away. I . . . just . . . want-to stalk you. Don't worry I won't get in your way! And though I'll see you everyday, YOU WON'T SEE MEEEEEEEE!"_

"Jink, that was a weird song, and a weird moment," Greg wrote, "But it's true. The thing's nothing but a stalker who probably watches you shower or something. In fact, this is probably all about SEX."

"No, it's not!" I protested, getting angry. "He doesn't even _want_ that!"

"I'm sorry, but if he's a guy, he's got only one thing on his mind."

"God, Greg, you sound like a FATHER," I fumed. "And in case you haven't seen what I did to the fucker who said he _was_ my father, I don't necessarily _want_ one."

"You need to be _careful_ with him, is all I'm saying," Greg wrote with a flourish. "He goes too far, don't be afraid to shock his ass. And yeah, I saw what happened to Derek. Nice job, by the way - don't envy _him_ when he wakes up."

"I _do_ try to leave my mark . . ." I joked.

The new guy - Sidney Leach - walked into the kitchen at that moment, waving hi. After he got his cup of coffee, I waved him over to the table. He sat down, openly gaping at us.

"Y'know, a picture might _last_ a little longer," I joked. "Whatcha in for?"

"What do you mean?" he asked, sounding a little confused.

"Well, it's obvious why _I_ was brought in," Greg wrote, "And Jink is a human lightning bug-,"

"Naturally," I added for no reason, letting my hand spark.

"-So why are you here?" he finished.

"I'm a human metal detector," he explained.

"Coolio," I nodded. "Nice ta meet ya. Now tell me - is _sex_ all guys think about?"

"Uh, Miss Jink, I don't think I'm comfortable talking about this-," he tried to aquirm out of it.

"Just Jink, daddy-o," I shrugged, "And it's all cool." I turned my attention back to Greg. "See? _His_ mind isn't on sex!!!"

"He doesn't count!" Greg wrote quickly. "He's HUMAN. We're talking about a _demon_ here!"

"What?" Leach asked, looking thoroughly confused.

"Oh, my demon lover went and got himself a body," I shrugged, trying to keep a straight face, "And _Gregory_ thinks that all we do is sex each other when the most we've done is hug."

Sidney stared at me for a few silent moments, then cleared his throat and asked, "Do you know what we may be doing today? I heard we're heading to South America, to look for these ruins, but I'm not sure . . . "

"Nice subject change," I mentioned lightly, "And I know _I'm_ not going - I have tests to take over my psyche."

"Yeah, because you could go psycho and suddenly slit our throats in our sleep," Greg joked. I let out a sputter of laughter, then laughed even harder at the look on Leach's face.

"Poor nube," I laughed. "I-I'm s-s-sorry, I shouldn't b-be laughing, but you're s-s-so _funny!"_

* * *

I stifled a yawn as the doctor went on talking . . . and talking . . . and _talking . . ._ This was Dr. Jessi or Dr. MacBride. This was the stereotypical Mr. Rogers-like man who talked in a slow monotone and just wouldn't stop _talking_. I could go to sleep in the chair and the man wouldn't notice. His words were the kind that would go in one ear and out the other, so I couldn't correctly remember his name.

"So, I believe that under the duress from the murder of Roger, your psyche developed a second personality to help you deal with anything hard on your emotional self . . . " he trailed off.

"Joy, I muttered. "Wha's _that_ shit mean?"

"You're a Class III Schizoid," he went on to explain. "Paranoid, hearing voices, the works. I'm going to tell Mr. Manning to give you some of these pills to help with it, and if you still hear this voice, tell me and we'll up the dose."

_Psh, _no_ amount of medicine will make me go away. I might make you think that I'm gone, but I'll always be here . . . __**always.**_

Joy . . . Fan-fucking-tastic.

* * *

I walked back to my room, feeling a little light-headed. Manning thought it'd be 'good for me' to talk 1.5 times the dose recomended by the doc, and the crap made me dizzy. I clumsily twisted the knob and managed to be inside the door before I tripped over my own feet.

Hands caught me, closed the door, and helped me to the bed. "Thanks, man," I clapped his shoulder, slurring my words slightly.

"I awoke to find you gone," Astaroth sighed, "And I didn't know where you went. I put on a movie."

I glanced at the screen. _Phantom Of The Opera._ One of my favorites. "Thanks, dude," I said. "Sorry about that. I couldn't sleep, so I got some soda, and then I had to go do all those tests."

"Do not worry about it," he said, putting an arm around my waist. "I know that I cannot expect for you to spend every waking moment with me. Just wake me up and tell me, so I at least know that you are in no danger."

"Okey-dokey, artichoke-ey," I muttered. I barely focused on the movie - it was like I fell asleep with my eyes open. But I snapped to it when Astaroth began to sing along with Erik.

"_Anywhere, you go, let me come too . . . Jink, that's all I ask of you."_ He had leaned in closer to whisper, "Will you let me, Jink? Can I come with you?"

The question caught me off guard. But I smiled, and laced my fingers through his. "Wouldn't have it any other way," I assured him.

Of course, my comm had to ring. With an aggravated sigh, I picked it up, answering, "If you have this number, it had best be good, or no one will find your body," I threatened.

"Jink?" It was Abe. "Go get Manning and hop a plane to South America. We need your help."

"Who'd you kill _this_ time?" I sighed, trying to keep my tone light.

"Liz is gone."

"WHAT?" I shrieked. "Gone, as in, _dead_?!?!?"

"No - as in, _kidnapped,_" Abe explained.

"Good God, WHY?!?!?!?!?"

* * *

**DUN DUN DUN!!! Another cliffhanger! Jeez, I can be so MEAN sometimes!!!! okay, so you know the drill, right? I don't own nothin' but Jink and Astaroth. The song came fromr ALL I ASK OF YOU from the Phantom of the Opera. The stalker song is "Is It Okay If I Stalk You?" from this YouTube video. I PROMISE to have a new chapter before the week is out, so love to you all, review, and don't get hit by a car.**

**~Izzy, who needs more time to write and less History homework  
**


	43. Sick Hearts

**hey guys! sorry it's taken me so long to update here - my internet won't stay where it's supposed to be (my room). I'm almost sitting on the roof to do just THIS much. Hope ou like this next chapter. This one is for Zip, AKA, and 'Anda. To all three of you: if I didn't have you, I wouldn't be here right now. You've all kept me sane in my time of need, and I pray that someday I can return the favor.**

**The title is a song by The Used - you'll see why I used it soon enough . . . . XD happy reading!  
**

* * *

I growled, and jumped off the bed. "Dammit, people!" I shouted, "You all go off on ONE mission without me, and ONE of y'alls ends up KIDNAPPED. What the fuck, guys?"

"We've managed fine without you, you know!" Abe replied crossly.

"Well, you're doing a _fine_ job of it _now!"_ I said sarcastically.

"Just get DOWN here!" Abe snapped.

I threw the comm onto the bed and started getting random articles of clothing and random items that I thought useful for the trip. Astaroth picked up the comm and replied coolly, "There is no need for anger, Abraham. We shall be there soon."

I smiled - you could hear the confused silence on the other end. "WHO THE HELL IS THAT?!?!?" Abe shouted.

I picked this moment to (politely) snatch the comm from Astaroth's hands. "That, my friend, was Astaroth," I said quickly, "And as he said, we'll be there, so don't get your undies in a bunch."

I flicked off the comm before he could say anything else, and sighed. I went back to packing for the trip. I was still somewhat dizzy from the medication, but that was something I couldn't do anything about. I continued to grumble and curse under my breath as I got a few more items for the trip. I even remembered to grab my pirate/Jesus Christ shirt. It was black and puffy, with a loose neck (that had these wicked rawhide ties), and fit/felt like a dream. It got its name from a few of the agents, who called me Jesus after seeing me in it.* And with it being as hot as I think it is down there, this shirt was sure to come in handy.

"You best take something to do," I warned Astaroth. "It's a long plane ride, and I don't do well with being messed with on the ride."

"I did not take you as one who gets air sick," he mused.

"I don't - I have a fear of flying over the ocean," I explained. "The only way I get through it is to focus on ANYTHING but the plane or the ocean."

Astaroth hopped off the bed and stopped me mid-packing. "Well," he said with a smile, "I can think of _quite_ a few ways to . . . _distract_ you . . . "

"HEY!" I said indignantly, "HELL no! Not _ever_, thank you!"

"I am just joking with you, love," he apologized. "I did not mean to offend you. Finish packing, and I can get us there without the aid of those man-made flying death machines."

"Joy," I grumbled.

"Just finish packing and I shall show you," he promised.

I put the clothes and crap into my black-and-red skull bag, shoved my iPod in my pocket, and jammed a hat on my head. "Let's _rock_ this pop stand!" I crowed, ready for anything.

"Very good," he gave a curt nod, and grabbed my comm from the bed (hey! I almost forgot that thing!). Flicking it on, he asked, "Is there anyone there?"

"What new hell is this?"

Oh God, Daimio answered - and sounded pissed. Did someone forget to give him coffee or something? Or is he still on guy PMS?

"I was just calling and telling you that Jink and I are leaving now," he said with ever-coolness, "So you should start watching for us."

"Who the hell-" he was cut off by Astaroth turning the comm off.

"Great - now when he sees you, he's gonna shit kittens," I said faintly.

"We shall see," he mused, and put his arms around me and my pack. "Close your eyes and remember to breathe."

"What?!?" I asked, but it was too late - with a *FWOOF!*, we were gone.

I can't describe how we were traveling. So many bright lights and colors - like an acid trip gone wrong. So bright . . I had forgotten to close my eyes! With a yelp, I buried my head into Astaroth's chest. His hold didn't slack or loosen. I couldn't tell you how long we were traveling - it could have been seconds or days and I wouldn't have noticed - but soon solid ground was beneath our feet and the bright lights and colors were gone.

"See?" he said, trying to joke, "Not bad at all." He tried to move, but I had his shirt in a death grip and I wasn't movin' nowhere. "Jink, are you okay?"

"Sure," I said faintly, "I'm . . _*cough*_ . . fine . . ."

"Can you walk?" he asked in a slow tone.

_Okay, feet,_ I thought, _move. Move. MOVE! _Aw, I thought italics and all caps would work . . . "No," I said faintly. The world zoomed away from me as he swept me up into his arms. "Oh HELL no!" I shouted. "Put my feet back onto the ground where the BELONG!"

"Well, I'm not going to leave you here," he said simply.

"Goddess, I feel _sick_," I moaned. "Put in the grass and come back for me - I have to wait for my stomach to catch up with me."

"We'll be there soon enough," he promised. "And please, tell me if you _do_ start to get sick."

"Trust me - you'll be the FIRST to know," I snapped. I closed my eyes - the back-and-forth motion of being carried was doing hells to my stomach. "Seriously, put me down, or so help me I'll shock your ass so hard your hair will catch FIRE."

With a sigh, he put me down on some grass, in a grove of some pretty trees. "They're less than a mile ahead of us," he informed me, "So I'll be back in less than ten minutes. Don't wander off."

"Yes, Mom!" I said sarcastically. I heard him laugh, and with a *FWOOF!*, he was gone.

The sky was inky black, and the stars were smeared across the sky like jelly on toast. I curled into a ball on my side and focused on not puking/ I must not've focused hard enough, cause I had to toss my cookies right there next to the tree and had to move.

Uhg . . . I hate getting sick like that. I can't say that I'm used to it, no matter how much it happens (like every Halloween and monster movie-thon). The emptyness you feel, the nasty taste and smell, the feeling of lethargy afterwards . . . oh, sorry, didn't mean to make you toss YOUR cookies . . . But yeah, I felt like taking a dirt-nap and sleeping like the dead for a few years.

I spaced, instead of sleeping. Y'know, like, you're awake, but you feel like you're asleep. I call it 'limbo' - the space between life and death, the space between awake and asleep. Just as I was getting into it, though, a wave of voices hit me like a ton of bricks.

"What the _FUCK_ did you do to her?!?!?!?"

"Jink? Are you okay?"

"You LEFT her HERE?!?!"

"She requested me to - she was not feeling well."

"Then YOU STAY HERE! CALL for HELP!!!!"

"Jink? If you're awake, can you say something?"

There was a chorus of clicks, and a touch to my shoulder.

I let out a high-pitched whine.

"Was that a _dog_?"

"I think that was her, sir."

I let out another whimper and clutched my stomach tighter - the "I'm going to puke up a lung" feeling was coming back in full force. Voices kept coming and piling up, but I refused to move.

I couldn't even get myself up off the ground to puke. I ended up turning to the side to do it, and rolling away from it. I felt so nasty and grody, and I wanted to hurry up and go to sleep and escape this nasty place.

"Someone pick her up - we'll take her back to base and see what they can do."

"Sir, do you think it's wise to mess with her while she's like this?"

"Leach, if you're afraid to do it, then _I_ will."

For the third time that night, I felt the ground zoom from me, and the back-and-forth motion of being carried ensued. I let out an angry groan.

"DAMMIT, PUT me DOWN!" I growled.

"Not on the damn ground, girl." Oh God I was being carried by Daimio again . . .

"Damn you all to the tenth circle of HELL!!!" I shouted hoarsely, breaking out into a coughing fit.

"It's actually a nice place . . ." Astaroth replied warmly from somewhere near my head.

"And how would YOU know?" a nameless agent asked.

"I lived there for a few dozen years," Astaroth explained.

I let out a snarl and began to thrash around. Daimio managed to keep his hold on me, and I didn't have enough energy to keep it up for long. After a few moments, I was as limp as a wet towel.

"Ya know what?" I snarled ferociously, "After this, the next bastard who touched me without MY permission is gonna get beat with a stick and buried in a shallow grave!!!"

"Yeah, like THAT'S gonna happen . . ." an agent muttered.

My stomach began to hurt again. This time, it was REALLY bad - like a fist was gripping my guts and stabbing them with white hot knifes. So, simply: uh, OWWWW?!?!?!!!! I groaned again and tried to pull my legs tighter to myself.

_See? Toldja this would blow up in your face somehow._

"Damn voice . . . " I muttered.

"What?" Oh, _crap_ - Daimio heard that.

"Voice won't go 'way," I grunted. "Dammit." My stomach lurched, and I said quickly, "Putmedown!! _Putmedown!!"_ I was set in some more grass, and proceeded to toss my cookies . . . again. There may have been some blood in that one, but in the dark it was hard to tell.

_You wouldn't be so sick if Manning hadn't shoved all those meds down your throat._

I was amazed, and logic finally pieced it all together. The _meds_ were screwing me up. I closed my eyes and rolled from hands and knees to my side.

"None of that crap now, Jink," Daimio protested, picking me up again. "You can lay around as much as you want when we get back to base. Get you some food."

The mere mentioning of food made my stomach churn. "No food," I groaned. "Meds . . . teleporting . . . barf . . ."

"The _meds_?!?!"

"New meds . . . too much . . . overdose . . . Manning . . ."

I spaced (thank Goddess) for a bit, and the next thing I knew, someone was shinging a bright light in my eyes.

I let out a startled shout and sent out a shock wave. I was trying to get up as fast as I could, but the fact that my vision was super-fuzzy didn't help. I heard yelps of pain, but I didn't care - my main objective was getting up and away. I already warned these people that the next bastard to touch me was getting beat with a stick.

"Damn, girl!" a woman yelled. "We're tryin' to stop ya from barfin' up your _heart!_"

I settled down for a second, and my eyes began to clear. You know how fuzzy the world is when you first wake up. But it was getting clearer, and I could tell that I was in the med tent - you couldn't disguise these walls with camouflage. The woman who was yelling at me was the only nurse in the tent. She had dark brown skin, black eyes, and short frizzy hair. And she was staring death at me. Oops - musta got her with the shock wave. Or I mighta puked on her - but I think I mighta remembered that . . .

"What the heazy?" I groaned, stretching.

"You've been puking your guts out for the past hour," she informed me. "What'd you _eat_?"

"I had a larger dose of Oxymollicotin - my schizoid meds," I explained.

"Girl, you don't need to be overdosin' on those meds!" she scolded.

"Boss told me to," i shot back.

"Uh-huh," she said skeptically, rolling her eyes.

Anyway, after a few minutes of being fussed over, I realized that the knife-y pain I had been feeling in my stomach was down to a dull throb. Sweet.

I got up slowly, trying not to make any sudden movements. The nurse ran up to me, saying loudly, "No!! Get back to bed!"

"Not a chance," I shook my head no. "They need me."

"It's three in the mornin'," she said flatly.

"Oh fucking well," I snapped, pushing past her and leaving the tent. It was still dark outside, and not a single soul was to be seen. Fine by me. I'd get to be alone, sit under a tree, think about the day, and what the _hell_ I was feeling. And trust me, you can't do that with a hot guy hanging on you.

Oooooo . . . just thinking about him sent shivers up my spine. But this felt . . . _wrong_. Not wrong as in, "This is gonna be fun, gluing Manning's ass to his chair" wrong, this is "Oh Goddess, this is Adam Sandler in a Disney movie" wrong. I knew almost nothing about Astaroth, and he knew almost nothing about me. And yet, we were drawn (somewhat) to each other.

_That's how it is with soul mates._

WhAAAaaaAaAAaaaAAaaAAaaAAT?!?!?!?!

_Yep. You know the saying, "Every demon has his angel"? No? How about "yin and yang". He's your oppossite and balances you in every way, just as you balance him._

Okay, I was cool with a demon following me. I was cool with my Goddess giving him a body. But now he's my _soulmate_?? This sounds like a story gone wrong. Uh-uh.

I closed my eyes and began to slow down my system - I had a bone to pick with my Goddess.

* * *

I opened my eyes again, and I was in the fields again. Elektra stood in front of me, wearing her normal toga/dress/thing, and a nutral expression. Neither of us spoke, but after an awkward silence (gay baby!), I said, "Beg your pardon, ma'am, but _what the mother-fucking hell?!?!?!?"_

I sounded more polite than I usually did. My thinking was that, "Hey! If she can GIVE life, she can sure as hell TAKE it!"

"I don't know what you mean, Jink," she said politely.

"I'm talkin' 'boot _Astaroth!"_ I said fiercely. :I was cool with him and his body and all, but who the fuck said we're _soulmates?!?!"_

"Jink, thought you may not care for them the universe _does_ have a set of rules," she said flatly, keeping her ace straight. You could hear the ice cracking in her voice. "I made you, and Tundra made him-"

"Who the fuck is Tundra?" I nearly shouted.

"Tundra is the god of Thunder, and my polar opposite," she explained patiently. "He had his line, and I had mine. Astaroth is the product of _his_ line, just as you are the produce of _mine_."

"Then why was he all ghosty?" I asked.

"Tundra was mad - he based is idea of life off of the demons in Hell. I based _you_ off of the humans."

"So . . . hold up. I'm confused." I put a hand on my hip. "First he's a demon, then he's the end of Tundra's line? What the hell, dude. I'm _hells_ confuzzled."

"Astaroth was only accepted amongst demons, and after a while, he convinced himself that he _was_ one," Elektra said gravely. "Over the years, he has forgotten our ways."

"Great . . . just _great_."

"Do not despair, Jink," she said gently, "As your friend Katherine has said, I would not give you more than I think you can handle."

* * *

I woke up leaning on the same tree, in our wonderful camp. The sun was coming up, and people were beginning to move around.

Great. So this guy and I were soul-mates, and I wasn't entirely sure I _liked_ the guy right now. Well, I didn't like _anyone_ before my morning pop, but that's beside the point. All I knows is that if even _one_ person asks if I'm okay, I'm gonna shank 'em. Even Astaroth, soulmate-ness be damned.

_Don't worry - when he sees the __**real**__ you, he's gong to damn the tie himself._

Yes. Thank you for your imput, voice. Cause I **really** care what you think.

* * *

**tah-dah! what do you guys think? Good? Bad? In need of more fluffy-ness? OK, for that last one, enjoy while you can - i can't do too much more of that in my story without barfing on my netbook. But yeah, love to you all - i have chores to do and work tonight, so i;ll try to get another chapter by tomorrow,n'kay?**

**~Izzy 3  
**


	44. Paralyzed

**hey guys!! guess what? I'M ALIVE!! THE ZOMBIES DIDN'T GET ME!! You guys don't have any idea how sorry I am . . . it was my INTERNET that was acting up. And this chapter seemed to take TOO LONG to write. I'm actually using a school computer to update this (so don't tell my teacher!)**

**I'm sorry if the chapter seems to go too fast, but I was anxious to get my ideas on paper (erm, laptop?). So I hope you enjoy, and I have people to fry.**

* * *

I stuck around to watch the sun rise the rest of the way. Seeing how the majority of my mornings were spent inside a MOUNTAIN, I didn't get to see the sun rise. And when I wasn't at home, I was too busy to notice it.

But now . . . yes, now was the time to take in a sunrise. Just when my life was about to go down the shit can, I was going to chill and watch the sunset.

But hyperactivity beckoned, so I left my wonderful nest of grass and headed to the mess tent. They always packed me a morning pop - that's why I loved these guys.

Today was no different. As I went through the line, the passed me my daily Dr. Pepper without a break in their stride.

"Thank you," I said gratefully. The food person gave me a nod, and continued to hand out food to people behind me.

I left the tent, chugging soda, when I saw Greg. I walked up to him and threw an arm around him in a lazy hug. My earlier threat still stood, but for Greg I was probably going to make the exception. We're just cool like that.

I didn't have to worry, however; as soon as he saw me, he picked up a card and wrote, "You're not going to puke on me, are you?"

I grinned as I shook my head. "Nope," I half-laughed, "I'm all good. How about _you_, Mister Sugar-For-Breakfast?"

He wrote, "No - I'm used to it by now. But you should have seen yourself last night - it was really gross."

"Aw, did I get sympathy pukers?" I asked excitedly.

"Quite a few, actually," he wrote. "The new guy especially."

"Grody," I grimaced. I put my chin in my hands, and sighed. "So what the hell happened to Liz? One moment she's there and the next she's gone, is that it?"

"Exactly!" he wrote. "Plus, a few helicopters exploded. It would have been cool if one of them didn't fly off on its own."

"Great," I muttered. "Just fan-_fucking_-tastic." I stretched my arms over my head and yawned. "I'ma gonna go change out of these grody clothes, cool?"

He pulled out a card that had one of my poorly drawn thumb's up.

Now, as I recalled, my bag (with all my crap in it) was back at the med tent, which was a whole new battle. The nurse from last night - um, this morning? - first tried to make me go back to bed. To which I said, "FUCK no!!" Then she forced some Pepto down. I didn't object to that - the best defense is a better offense or some shit like that.

Then she pulled out a box of meds. "Boss called and said to make sure you get these," she said, holding out three pills and a glass of water. No getting out of this. With a heavy glare, I grabbed the pills and swallowed them without the water.

"When I start puking and hallucinating, you tell Manning I said "Up yours," cool?" I asked.

I grabbed my bag and left before she could reply.

I found a small grove of trees out of sight of the camp and changed from jeans to (long) shorts and my Jesus Christ shirt. I stuffed my dirty clothes into the bag and came out of the trees, feeling somewhat less dirty. But I still felt grody.

I went back to where Greg was sitting, modeling my shirt. "Whatcha think?" I asked. "Am I Jesus or what?"

New card, a quick scribble: "Sure thing, but it looks more like a pirate shirt."

"Nice try, but I'm a ninja," I scoffed.

"The battle between ninjas and pirates shall rage on forever," Greg wrote.

I sat down, and we continued to talk. Now, being so sick last night, people probably assume that I wasn't on top of my game. When in reality, I was super-sensitive to everything and everyone. And when I felt someone try to sneak up on me, I didn't hesitate to sweep their feet out from beneath them.

"_OOF!"_ Oh, hey, I think I know that voice. "Goodness, love, I am not _armed_." Yep, I knew that voice.

"Sorry - Training and all that," I apologized. He picked himself up off the ground and sat down next to me - a little _too_ close, if you ask me. I scooted over, glaring at him sightly.

"What?" he asked. "What have I done? Are you angry with me?"

"Nooooo . . ." I trailed off slowly.

"This is Jink most days," Greg wrote. "Grumpy, jumpy, and not really wanting to be touched."

"Actually, Greg, can I have a hug?" I asked, holding my arms out. "Pwease?"

He gave in, giving me a wonderful Greg-Hug. I swear, if I could bottle and sell his hugs, I'd be a rich, rich girl.

"No hug for me?" Astaroth asked. I swear, it was almost _whining._

"Nope," I said.

"Why does he get a hug?" Astaroth asked slowly.

"Greg gives the _best_ hugs," I pointed out.

"It's true," Greg agreed. "I think it's the extra arms."

"So, this over-sized pest gets a hug - and I don't?"

Casually, I turned to him a delivered an uppercut to the jaw, sending him sprawling. I pushed him to the ground and sat on him, pulling his arm up and twisting it so he wouldn't think about moving.

"Check it - Greg is _not_ a _pest,_" I hissed. "If you're gonna be here - and you wanna keep your extremities - I'd go over there and say sorry to him. And if I hear you call him that again . . . well, let's just say you'll be less anatomically correct than a G.I. Joe. We clear?"

He nodded his head in the dirt, and I got up off of him and helped him up. I gripped the back of his neck and practically threw him at Greg.

"Sorry, Greg," he said quietly.

Greg didn't write anything down. He stared death-beams at Astaroth, though - it was kinda cool, seeing him do that.

Astaroth got up from the ground and walked off, properly chastised.

"Jerk," I muttered.

Greg wrote on a card quickly: "Told you he was a dick."

"Something about him doesn't sit right with me," I said. "He's jealous? He's angry?"

_He's going INSANE!!!! _

Okey-dokey, voice. He's going . . . wait. That's what . . . _she _said.

"I think I know what's going on," I muttered. "And I don't like how it looks."

"So you're up and moving, huh?"

I looked up to see Daimio looking down at me.

"Yepperstrudel," I agreed. "One hundred per cent cured - at least, until the meds kick in."

"Good," he said, walking off, "The last thing we need is you lazing around like this was a damn vacation. Get off your ass and get to work."

I looked back to Greg. "Someone sure sounds _cheery_ today!" I said sarcastically.

* * *

We spent the next three days looking for the M.I.A. chopper and any bodies we could take back. It was a grisly job. I wasn't complaining, though - I had a bigger fish to fry. Named Astaroth.

The guy was getting hells jealous. Whenever I would stop to talk to an agent or Greg - or _anybody,_ for that matter - he would _have_ to come over and see who it was, butt into the conversation, and try to walk off with me in tow.

Naw . . . . . . we ain't havin' that. Ever since what Elektra told me, about Tundra's creations being twisted and mad, it keeps getting clearer to me that Astaroth is becoming dangerous and insane and all sorts of other bad stuff like that.

But I never it would come to what it came to. I never figured . . . . I never knew . . . . . .

It started the fourth night we were there. I was in the woods, walking around and enjoying the natural beauty of the place. It was the first time I had ever been to such a place, and I couldn't get over how pretty the place was in the moonlight.

I had my comm with me. And a gun. I was surprised when Daimio threw it to me on my first day here - "For protection," he had said - but oh well. Looking back, I can safely say that without it, I would have died.

Anyways, I was walking, when heard something. I lit up my hand so I could see better. I almost knew who it was as soon as I heard the noise, Astaroth would follow me into the bathroom if he could.

"Dude, stalk much?" I asked.

"I do not think it wise for someone such as yourself should be out here alone," he said, trying to make it his excuse.

"Oh _please,"_ I scoffed, "I've had worse - _trust_ me."

"I do not care - you need someone with you," he replied quickly.

"Okay, what the _hell_ is wrong with you?" I snapped, turning on my heel to face him. "What's with all the clingy-ness? I can't have _one minute_ to myself?!?!?"

"I do not want you to get hurt!" he replied loudly.

"_I can handle it - I've already been hurt worse than anything out here can do!" _I shouted.

"**YOU SHOULD NOT HAVE TO WORK AT A JOB WHERE YOU GET HURT EVERY TIME YOU GO OUT!"** he thundered.

I shoved him, and he shoved me back. Within seconds, we were hitting each other and trying to take each other down. He wasn't easy to take down like the last time - he fought back, _hard._

He finally pinned me down, and I did what I did as a last resort: I shocked him.

It

didn't

work.

He had a smug grin on his face, and he said, "You know, I am the only thing out here that can handle your powers."

I stared up at him, and it finally dawned on me. As it did, I began to shake, and angry tears formed in my eyes.

"It was you. In Mexico. You . . . you raped me."

He just kept on grinning. He was cracked, through and through. Only now, I could see it.

I began to struggle. Desperation lent me strength, and I managed to get a knee to his groin. He rolled off of me in pain, and I jumped up, pulling out my gun and taking aim.

"IT WAS YOU!" I roared. "_YOU RUINED MY LIFE!"_

He looked up to me, then to the gun. He stood up slowly, and I kept the end of the gun pointed at him.

"Y-you are not going to shoot me, are you?" he asked slowly.

"_You took my childhood from me,"_ I growled, "_And you stole my innocence. WHY THE FUCK SHOULDN'T I SHOOT YOU?!?!?"_

"I am tied to you," he pointed out. "If you shoot me, you may feel my pain as well."

"_For WEEKS, I couldn't talk to people!"_ I hissed as my hands started to shake. "_It was worse than when Roger died, or when Hellboy left. DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU DID TO ME?!?!?!?"_ My finger tightened over the trigger.

"Of course I do," he replied calmly. "I knew your name, and I knew the feel of your soul. I was there in Mexico, wreaking havoc, when I felt you nearby. And when I saw you . . . well, I couldn't help myself."

_**BLAM!**_

Blood began to run down his face, and his body crumpled and fell.

I wanted to bring my arms down and to put my gun away, but my arms seemed frozen. Y'know, in some of the shows I watched, when people shot someone, their arms would get stuck, and I always wondered why.

Now I knew. It was a combination of shock from taking a life, and force of the gun kinda locking your joints into place, and the numbness that seemed to seep all over my body.

"Jink?" Abe called over the comm. "What happened? I heard a gun. Are you okay?"

I couldn't even move my arms to grab my comm. At least I had it, so they could track it and find me.

I fell back onto my butt, arms still sticking out.

_It was him,_ I thought numbly, _it was him, and I let him into my life again. Fuck my life, it was HIM._

There was the sound of twigs snapping and people walking, and I could feel the group of people approaching. I closed my eyes, and sighed. _No tears, Jink,_ I ordered myself, _It's bad enough already, you don't need to make it worse with tears._

Someone crouched low by me and gently peeled the gun from my hand. When I felt the cool hands, I knew who it was.

"It was him, Abe," I said softly. "He was the man from Mexico. It was him . . . the entire time."

And that's when the laughing started. _Laughing._ But this wasn't "Oh, hey, that was kinda funny," laughing – this was the "I'm insane, I know this, and I finally just snapped the last straw, so don't screw with me," laughter.

And after a few minutes, the laughing mixed with tears, which turned to all-out sobbing.

_Dude, you're one crazy messed up person. Go take a nap._

But I didn't. I just sat there, sobbing and feeling myself collapse in on myself.

* * *

**Yeah, in a fit of change, I turned Astaroth into one of us crazy people. The title comes from a song by the Used of the same title. Listen to it while reading this, and it TOTALLY fits.**

**Well, love to ya, I just got busted (DX), and I have a monologue to prepare.**

**~Izzy (who found her pants in the backroom?)**


	45. Welcome To The Black Parade

**Hi, guys! NO, I DID NOT GET EATEN BY THE ZOMBIES. My comps was having issues. I am SO sorry this was taking so long - my virus protection died, and then I couldn't get my ideas on paper right, and then I was scared that this chapter would suck, and then I just . . . lost it. So be HAPPY, and REVIEW. See you at the end.**

* * *

I sigh - my eyes are closed, my music is banging in my eardrums, and all should be well. Right?

_Wrong._

I killed someone. I _killed_ someone. In my line of duty, I kill things all the time, but none of them were ever . . . human. I couldn't believe what I had done.

_Hell-ooooooo!!! THIS WAS THE MAN WHO RAPED YOU. HE DESERVED TO DIE. STOP BITCHING ABOUT IT AND GET __**ON**__ WITH YOUR LIFE!!!_

I sighed as I focused on the music.

_Do or die, they'll never make me.  
Because the world will never take my heart.  
Go and try, they'll never break me.  
We want it all, we wanna play this part.  
I won't explain, or say I'm sorry  
I'm unashamed; I'm gonna show my scars.  
Give a cheer for all the broken,  
Listen here, because it's who we are.  
I'm just a man, I'm not a hero.  
I'm just a boy who had to sing this song.  
I'm just a man, I'm not a hero -  
I. DON'T. CARE!!!_

Music makes everything better, right?

I was sitting by a window. This was so contrary to my usual regime, but there you go.

No one was talking to me. Since . . . _it_ . . . happened, none of them have talked to me other than to tell me that we were leaving to go to Germany.

My hands were still shaking. Goddess . . . this was bad. What was going to happen to me? Was I going to jail? I fucking _killed_ someone!!

_DUDE!!! STOP BITCHING ABOUT IT ALREADY!!! God, you weren't this bad when Roger died!_

I sighed and kept my ranting to myself.

* * *

Germany is a nice place. It looked like home, but everything was in German, and the neighborhoods were more . . . _rich_ than what I've seen.

_What do you know about houses? You live in a fucking MOUNTAIN, remember?_

Okay, now this voice was just being plain rude.

We were in a little (not really) square of grass, surrounded by police and barriers. It seems that one of our wonderful choppers crashed here yesterday.

Crazy.

No one was flying the thing, and no one (really) got hurt. But the crash site was pretty messed up, though. Glad no one was underneath that one.

We had met up with this army official guy in a red beret and a funny mustache. I'm serious - that mustache was hilarious. I couldn't get over it.

Johann started talking to the guy in German, but he stopped him before he could say too much.

"Please, there is no need for German, Agent Kraus," he was saying, "I studied abroad at Stanford and my English is pretty good."

I didn't really pay attention to the guy, but he sure as hell got _Kate's_ attention. She rushed up to him, stammering on about how _excellent_ his English was.

Sparks flew - it was impossible _not_ to see.

But the story was only beginning. It seems that some vandals were stealing electronics from the houses. An old lady claimed that they _weren't_ kids, but some sort of little monsters.

Her evidence? Pictures drawn on her walls. Little orange guys in yellow raincoats and hats. By the way Abe was staring at them you'd of thought he saw them before.

"This is it?" Daimio asked with disdain, bending down to looked at some lower on the wall.

"Yes - she was mentally incompetent, and did not know how to use a camera," Mr. German Police Guy replied, walking into the back bedroom, "And she has "updates" in here."

I was slow following the group to the bedroom. My thoughts were more focused on what I had done than what I was doing.

But when I saw what was drawn on the walls . . . THAT snapped me out of it.

It was a group of frogs surrounding a figure in black . . . one that I knew very well . . .

_The Black Flame._

I run out of there before I can spark and set something on fire. I go outside and lean on the fence, concentrating on nothing but breathing slowly . . . . . _slowly . . . ._ It's no use - I'm starting to spark, to the complete surprise of onlookers.

There was footsteps, and a careful tap on my shoulder. I turned to see Greg holding a ready-made card: "Are you okay?"

"Oh, _now_ you ask?" I snap quietly.

He brought a new card and scribbled for a moment, and held up, "Well, I figured that you could use some time by yourself. It's not everyday you kill the person responsible for ruining your life."

"It's just that . . . no one's been . . . talking to me," I say slowly. "Like . . . I did something . . . . _bad_."

New card, more scribbles (thank God(dess) his writing is legible): "We just thought you needed some time to yourself, that's all."

I don't know what came over me suddenly, but I blurted, "But that's not all, isn't it? There's something you're not telling me. _What are you keeping from me?"_

He didn't write anything else down, and I didn't get a chance to hound him for more answers - the German Cop Guy came out of the house, followed by Johann, Kate, Daimio, and Abe. They walked across the street and pointed to what seemed to be a construction site.

I gave Greg a look that clearly said, "Dude, we're gonna talk more later.", and ran off to see what was going down.

"There!" the guy was saying, "That's where the new station was going to be."

"Okay, we'll go down there and check it out," Abe replied. "Jink, Kate, you stay here."

"WHAT?!" I shrieked. "How come _**I**_ gotta stay here?!?! I wanna come!!"

"You heard the man!" Daimio snapped. "You're stayin' here!" He motioned to Greg. "You come with us."

Greg shot me one last look before following the rest of the guys to the hole in the wall.

"Damn sexist bastards," I muttered.

"Ah, so she speaks," Mr. Cop Man said. I could feel him looking at me. "And who might you be?"

"I'm Jink," I whirled to face him. "And I have issues."

The guy gave me a weird look, but Kate looked like she was trying to keep a straight face.

"I'm serious," I said, stifling a giggle. "I'm wired, tired, and prepared to kick ass." I broke on the last word and started laughing. Kate broke out laughing too. It was a good moment.

When her laughter finally died down, she said, "Well, _someone_ is feeling better."

"Nope," I smiled, "I still feel like shitty crap. But thank you for being concerned."

Kate gave me one of her signature looks, and Mr. German Cop had to ask, "Is she always like this?"

"Yep," she said quickly, "But it's been going downhill since Roger died and she tried to commit suicide."

I had to laugh at the look on this man's face. But when this monster thing burst from the ground, the laughter was gone.

It was big, orange, and acted like it had scores to settle. I swore, "Fan-FUCKING-tastic!!"

Kate and Mr. German Cop ran to find back up and weaponry, but I stood and watched. More were coming, marching along like some macabre parade.

It hit me like a ton of bricks, and I smiled.

"Welcome to the Black Parade," I muttered, and walked off to prepare for war.

* * *

***giggle* I was giggling the entire time I wrote the ending. I'm sorry, but I'm just so freakin' excited about a new chapter up.**

**The title and the lyrics is from WELCOME TO THE BLACK PARADE by MCR (WHO IS COMING OUT WITH A NEW ALBUM SOON!!).**

**now, REVIEW DAMMIT, have a nice day, and all that Jazz.**

**~Izzy  
**


	46. Black Cat

**Hey guys. I know - another update this week! How cool is that? Okay, this is TOTALLY a song-fic, and the song is BLACK CAT by Mayday Parade. See ya at the end!  
**_**

* * *

Close-up camera one,  
The hero sings in this scene.  
The guy who get the girl gets to go home  
where they get married.**_

* * *

I stood and watched the untold destruction for a few moments. It was pretty cool, all things considered - I've never seen things like this before.

_Of course not - last time these things were around, you were off fighting the vampire in Cleveland._

Huh . . . you mean Count Chocula? Man, that guy was one funny nutjob - he thought he was a vampire, when he was working for the Kellogg company as Count Chocula . . . REALLY funny . . .

_HELLO! GET BACK TO HELL OPENING IN FRONT OF YOUR EYES!!!_

Oh, um, that . . . the giant robots were shooting lasers at people now, and I kinda took that as a BAD thing.

I ran down the hill I was standing on, to the first robot I could reach. I had no idea what to do - what do you do when you fight robots, throw water on them? That worked in the movies . . . but _maybe_ not the right place to test it.

_Shock that bad boy!_

Okay, voice? Can I tell you something? In the wrong circumstances, that could be taken as WRONG, as in, WRONG on MANY LEVELS.

. . . .

But it's a great idea.

I formed a plan quickly. It was half-baked, and could possibly get me killed. What else is new?

I ran along side it, and when it's "leg" hit the ground, I jumped at it, hitting it hard enough to jar my teeth. I clung to it for dear life, hoping that I didn't fall off. Once I was sure I wasn't going to fall off, I shocked the thing with all I had.

At first, it looked like it wasn't going to work. But then it started to slow, and then it froze.

I jumped down, and did a small victory dance. _Yes! Short circuit, bay-beeeee!!!_

* * *

_**But stop the tape - the sunset still looks fake to me.  
The hero looks like he can't breathe.  
The damsel just left everything.**_

* * *

I watched as a robot next to it got taken down by a bomb. By now, half the city was aflame. It would be cool, but seeing how it was an ENTIRE CITY that was on fire . . . well, yeah, I'm supposed to be against that.

Right now, though . . . . I could sit and watch the world burn.

I went through the city and climbed to the top of one of the crumbled buildings. The veiw was amazing - you could see all the robot things clomping around and the entire city.

This is a site that I'll remember forever, it's so beautiful.

My comm rang, and I picked it up, saying, "Hello. You've reached Jink. Leave a message after the beeeeeeeeeeeeeep."

"Jink, where'd you go?" Kate asked. She didn't sound angry - she actually sounded worried. "You disappeared."

"Nah, I just took down a killer robot, and now I'm taking in the sights," I scoffed. "I never knew a city on fire could be so beautiful."

* * *

_**You're like a black cat  
With a black backpack  
Full of fire works  
And you're gonna burn the city down  
Right now (Whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh)**_

* * *

"Wonderful," she snapped. "Well, you need to get your ass back here - we're about to launch some cruise missiles, and we don't want you caught in the blast."

"Whoa - missiles?" I asked in surprise. "That's gonna kill ff half the city. Someone break out the marshmallows."

"Half the city is killed anyway," she sighed. "Now get back up here so you don't get fried."

"Now, who said I didn't want to get fried?" I asked. "Huh? Maybe I _want_ to be here when the missiles go off."

"Jink . . . Get _back_ here!" Yeesh, now she was shouting.

Don't get me wrong folks - I wasn't planning on burning myself alive. I was just messing with her - I live for the reactions of other people. Call it a fetish, call it a problem, _I_ call it something to do.

"JINK!" She screamed. "GET YOUR ASS BACK UP HERE!"

"Yes, Mom," I said sarcastically. I put my comm away and started back down the building.

* * *

_**Close-up camera two,  
Cause the hero dies in this scene.  
You inspiration is the loss  
Of absolutely everything.**_

_

* * *

_

Now, as far as this whole little battle went, I'll give you the stats.

People killed: Hundreds of thousands.

People hurt: Thousands - several.

Percentage of those killed/hurt that were OUR guys: around 10 per cent.

Number of monsters killed: All (about ten thousand)

Number of Liz's found: Jack shit.

"There's nothing else for us to do here," was Abe's explanation of why we were leaving.

"WE CAN STILL KEEP LOOKING!" I shouted, pissed beyond all reckoning. "She's GOTTA BE here SOMEWHERE!!"

"DAMMIT, JJINK!" Daimio shouted back. "THERE'S _NOWHERE ELSE TO LOOK!!"_

I didn't reply - I glared at them all with all I had.

Greg pulled out one of his cards and wrote, "Jink, we've done all we could."

I growled, and walked faster so I was ahead of them.

_Just you and me against the world, huh?_

"WILL YOU EVER SHUT UP!?!?!?!" I shouted, wrapping my arms around my head, "DAMMIT, GET OUT OF MY HEAD!!!"

* * *

_**And flashback to the girl  
As we montage every memory.  
Ans we bleed out in the bathroom sink  
And we fade out as the soundtrack sings.**_

* * *

One long and annoying plane ride later, we were back home, and I was in my room. I still couldn't believe the events that had taken place here just over a week ago. God, I have to clean my sheets.

I was sitting at my computer, looking at my e-mail and flipping through an old photo album. There were pictures in there dating back to when I was eight. Back then, I was being commissioned on mission with Abe, Liz, and Hellboy - some of our best adventures. Heh, there was even one of Kate in there.

Back then, Kate was in charge of "schooling" me. Like that did anything. I was so small and hyper, she figured as long as I could tell time, tie my shoes, multiply, and do basic algebra, I'd be okay. I picked up other things, too - she took me down into one of the labs to show me one of the scientists experiment with explosives. Thus began my love of C-4.

But even back then, there were spats and differences. The famous Dr. Pepper incident in the Comm Room, the time I wired all the fire alarms to ring when someone flushed this toilet on the fourth floor . . . good times.

Life was good back then. But then Hellboy left, we got Roger, Daimio, and Greg . . . somewhere along the way, I lost who I used to be. So carefree, so innocent . . . If the eight-year-old me saw the sixteen-year-old me, the younger would fry the older screaming, "WHAT THE HECK HAPPENED TO YOU?!?!?!?!"

As I opened one e-mail, I nearly dropped my photo album.

It was from Liz.

But then I realized that it was dated before she disappeared, and I relaxed slightly.

**I thought that you might enjoy this - we took these a while back. In thanks for the WONDERFUL movie you made.**

** ~Liz**

I opened the photos, and nearly broke out laughing. Somehow, during the flight, I managed to slip out of my seat, and I was in all sorts of funny positions. At least they left me alone . . . well, except for taking the pictures, but that's all well and good. I put them all in an embarrassing video, so it's my just desserts.

I went back to my photo album. As the photos got newer, there was more of me and Roger - or me and Hellboy, but those were rare and treasured - and less of Liz and Abe. Barely any of Daimio and Greg. I gotta fix that.

* * *

_**Get your hands  
off my star.  
It's not your part but all your fault.  
This jealous actress has a habit  
If making things sound way to tragic.**_

_**Get your hands  
off my star.  
It's not your part but all your fault.  
This jealous actress has a habit  
If making things sound way to tragic.**_

* * *

I had to skip over the ones with Roger in them - they made my insides hurt with sadness and my eyes well up, and I don't feel like crying right now.

_Go ahead and cray - your family is dropping like flies. First Hellboy left, then Roger died, and now Liz is missing. Just wait - I bet Greg's next._

I got off the bed with a bounce, and went into the bathroom. I turned on the cold water in the sink and splashed some on my face. Looking into the mirror, I felt like I was staring at a stranger. Those eyes looked too haunted . . . that face looked to pained . . . that body looked too skinny.

It felt like I was a skin, and someone else was controlling me.

I could feel my pocket knife in my pocket. Slowly, I reached into my pocket to grab it. I flicked open a blade, staring at it and watching it glint in the light.

_Justacutjustacutjustacut . . . . ._

This voice was new - I couldn't tell if it was mine or the other voice. Well, seeing how it didn't insulted me, it must be my own.

Like clockwork, I reached up with the blade and made a small slice right below the crook of my elbow.

* * *

_**Yeah this jealous actress has a habit  
Of making things sound way to tragic.

* * *

**_**I"M so mean!! I'm sorry, the end just wrote itself . . . . so review, have a nice day, and this goes out to Zipper and AKA - you guys are the COOLEST PEOPLE EVER, and I LOVE you!!! **

**To ****Starla_Envy_Rose, Tivvy, and Gyrogia**** . . . . You have a special place in my heart. *hands out a cookie* HERE YOU GO!!!**

**~Izzy, who spreads the love  
**


	47. Around The Bend: A Triptych

**Hey guys! It's MEEEEEEEEE again. So, yeah, this HAS to be the LONGEST chapter EVUH. No lie. So big . . . it's in three parts. Hence the "triptych" So enjoy. See ya at the end.**

* * *

**Part I: We Never Saw This**

I sighed. It was so . . . _boring_around here. Kate was off talking to some old guy - used to be the partner of ol' Lobster Johnson. Daimio, Abe, and Johann were off investing Lobster's old hide-out. Greg . . . was sitting in my room, chugging sugar like no tomorrow.

"Greg, I'm telling you now . . . if you get more sugar on my floor, I'll have to pump in water to make my own beach," I sighed in a warning tone.

He held up a sugar-dusted card: "Well, it's a party. I'm supposed to eat this much sugar."

"I don't care how much sugar your eating - I'm more worried about the crap you have on the floor."

"That's what a vacuum is for," he wrote.

"_Greg,_" I warned again, "If you don't chillax, I'm taking the sugar away."

He clicked, and went back to nomming on sugar.

With a sigh, I clicked on the TV and flipped through the channels. Commercial. Commercial. News. Disney. Guy getting beat by a taco. Commercial. Hellboy. Commercial

Hold THE **PHONE!!** I flipped back the couple of channels.

Oh. My. God.

_They turned Hellboy . . . into a movie._

"Greg, check this out!" I squealed, bouncing up and down. "They turned Hellboy into a movie!!"

He watched it for a second, and wrote, "That doesn't look like Hellboy that much."

"It doesn't," I agreed. "He's too short, to skinny, and they gave him _actual feet._ Who _wrote_ this crap?"

We watched it, completely entranced. With nothing to do, it was the most exciting thing to keep us occupied.

Until the end, of course.

"OH MY GODDESS!!" I shouted, covering my eyes. "IT _**BURNS!!"**_

Greg let out a few of his insect clicks, and I really hope he covered his eyes too.

I'm not even going to recount what I saw - I'll never be able to get ride of the imagery.

I hurried to turn the channel, trying not to freak out. That . . . . was the craziest thing . . . I ever saw.

"AND THEY DIDN'T EVEN PUT **ME** IN IT!" I shouted.

"Or me," Greg wrote, still not looking at the TV.

"Cheez-its," I swore, "No one hears about this, cool?"

"Like ice cream," he agreed.

* * *

**Part II: 0.o**

Skippy skippy skip skip skip. No one ever expects to see ME skipping down a hallway. Why do I do it? Walking can be so boring sometimes - you gotta shake it up sometimes.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand . . . . I finally had something to do. We got a hit on the guy that nabbed Liz - and he was somewhere in Siberia. FUCKING SIBERIA. Man, if it weren't for the fact the I've missed Liz wicked, I might be pissed.

You see, we both suffer from what I call the "Hellboy Syndrome". You see, she came to the BPRD when she was eleven, and always saw Hellboy as the older brother she never had. When he left, it hurt her almost as much as me. So we're in the same boat.

We're sisters - we fight one minute, threaten to kill each other the next, and laugh and giggle like schoolgirls the _next_ minute. It's all cool between us.

I was going to meet Greg in the hanger. We were going to sit in a place for about half an hour before everyone else joined in.

I was in my most comfortable jeans, a green t-shirt (ZOMBIES JUST WANT HUGS) over a long-sleeved t-shirt, with black DC's and a stocking cap with a skull on it. When riding on a plane, it pays to be in your comfiest clothing.

Greg was already there waiting, sitting in a seat by the window. I dumped my small bag (contents: one iPod, one copy of _Boneshaker_, and one Jareth the penguin) in the seat two over from his and collapsed into the one next to him.

Greg clicked and shook my foot, trying to get my attention. "Am I allowed to ask why you don't like flying?" was written on one of his cards.

"It's not flying," I explained. "It's flying over oceans. I keep thinking that we're gonna fall and kill ourselves and drown and die. I don't like water. I can't stand it. I can't even handle snow that well."

"If it's any consolation," Greg wrote quickly, "I don't like thunderstorms - or lightning."

"Lightning?" I asked. "Seriously? It's like the greatest thing ever!"

"For you, maybe," he countered, writing quickly, "But you're a living lightning rod. I'm not."

"Aw, I won't let any lightning get ya, man," I sighed. "Trust me - any lightning around, it's got my name all over it."

"And we won't let you fall," he wrote with finality.

"Okay, when we're all FALLING OUT OF THE SKY," I replied pointedly, "I'll remember that!"

By then, others were beginning to board the plane. I had to rescue my bag from being sat on by Sidney Leach. He had this HUGE duffle bag with him, and it nearly creamed me.

"Dude, we ain't hittin' the beach, so you can ditch the pontoon," I growled, trying to keep his bag out of my face.

"Oh, uh, sorry, Miss Jink," he said hurriedly. "I didn't mean to hit you with my bag."

"Okay, none of this "Miss" crap, you hear?" I snapped a little too loudly. "And get rid of all that _crap_ before I get rid of it _for_ you."

He glanced at me, looking slightly hurt. I didn't mean to hurt the guy's feelings, but there was no way I was apologizing - at least, not right now, anyway.

Greg poked my foot to get my attention. When I looked over, he was waving a card saying, "Apologize."

"Gah . . . ." I sighed. "Sid, I'm sorry I snapped."

"Oh, don't worry about it, Miss Jink," he grinned. "No harm, no foul."

I sighed and leaned back up against my seat. It was going to be a LONG ride.

* * *

I lay across three seats, laying on my side and facing the seat. My iPod was as loud as it could go without blowing out my ears, and I was somewhat curled around myself. Yes, this was indeed the position of protection for a plane ride.

There was a poke in my back. I growled and curled a little tighter. Then there was a sharp _jab_ right in the soft spot in the middle of my back. I yelped and jackknifed, falling off the seats and onto the floor. The ear phones were yanked out of my ears in the fall, making me yelp in pain . . . again.

I opened my eyes, but didn't move to get up. No chance. No way. Uh-uh. Screw that.

"Jink, get off of the floor," Kate ordered.

"Nah . . . ," I drawled, "I'm good where I am."

"Jink, get off the damn floor," Daimio ordered gruffly.

"Make me, supercop," I griped.

There was a shuffling of paper, footsteps, and the next thing I knew I was being picked back up and tossed onto the bench of seats. I banged my head real hard on one of the armrests, making me wince as pain exploded in my skull.

"Ouch, dammit!" I shouted. "That was my fuckin' head!"

"And your fuckin' ass shoulda been in a seat!" he snapped back.

"Jesuits, Cap'n Crunch," I swore, "You need to lay off the happy pills - you're too happy."

He didn't reply - he just sat down and glared at me.

I tried to sit up, and promptly saw stars. "Dammit, man, you gave me a concussion!" I yelled.

"Jink, calm down," Kate sighed, putting down her book and getting up to walk over to me. "It's probably nothing more than a bump."

"But it still hurts," I frowned.

She leaned down to take a peek at the already formed goose-egg on my head. "Does it hurt here?" she asked, poking it.

I replied with another yelp of pain. Damn these reflexes of mine . . . I clapped my hands over the bump and scooted away from her.

"Okay, it's just a bump," she tried to be comforting. "It'll be gone in a few days."

"Oh, so I have to walk around in a battle-field with a bump on my noggin?" I snapped. "Great!"

"Get a freakin' bike helmet," Daimio snapped. Jeez, that man needs to chill . . .

"Yeah, so I can look like one of those retarded kids? No thanks!"

Greg wrote something down and showed it to Leach. When he stifled laughter, I got suspicious.

"What he say?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at him.

"Oh, um, Greg said that the helmet would fit you well," he said, oblivious to Greg motioning to him not to tell me.

"Oh, is that so?" I asked. "Well then . . . too bad I don't _have_ one."

I leaned back in the chair and smiled, and Greg knew I wasn't mad at him. We're just cool like that.

I shifted my gaze to the uncovered window. It was such a simple fear, crashing into the ocean. I could conquer it . . . right? Maybe? Hopefully?

_Keep telling yourself that . . ._

I sighed and just chilled - it wasn't worth getting all worried over. Fears are fears, and there's no shame in that.

_Chicken. Coward. Grow a spine already._

But there IS shame in being called a coward by a voice in your head. So I did the unthinkable: I got up, walked to the window . . . and looked down.

The sky was pretty cool - of course, it always is. I love looking at the sky. By the ocean . . . all I could think of was falling . . . .

. . . . . . falling . . . . .

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .falling . . . . .

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . falling . . . .

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . falling . . . . . .

Whoa . . . . . .

The next thing I knew, I was on the floor, people panicking, and another killer headache. And when you're on the floor, with people panicking and a killer headache, you tend to panic.

"HOLY SHIT THE PLANE'S GOIN' DOWN!" I jumped up and screamed, and _I_ started running around and panicking. When most people panic, they yell, scream, try to find their way out of a situation . . . However, when _I_panic . . . well, I spark. Litteraly. Like, static shocks to anyone around me. It doesn't happen often, but when it does . . . yeah.

Which, of course, makes everyone ELSE panic. There's nothing more hilarious than seeing agents of a respectable government agency running around like they just got their hands chopped off. It makes me giggle.

But there was a voice of reason in the chaos . . .

"_**PEOPLE, GET BACK TO YOUR SEATS!**_"

Kate was at the back of the plane, shouting at people. Great - I had to _sit_ next to her. I can't even imagine what she's going to do to me . . . . .

With slow footsteps, I made my way back to my seat. I got glares from people - people who probably thought this whole mess was MY fault.

Great . . . . just fan-FUCKING-tastic.

* * *

Low and behold. After another three hours on a plane with Kate yelling at me, Daimio making fun of me for fainting, Greg telling me that it wasn't "all that bad", and Leach being Leach, we were there. Where, exactly, _was_ "there"?

"There" was a mountain range in Siberia or something. It was cold, it was bleak, and it was annoying (because the bright sun + snow + killer headache doesn't work out that well).

We had to meet up with a bunch of army peoples from other countries, and I couldn't understand a lick of it. For ONCE, can't we go somewhere where I could understand people?

_You did that already - back in Germany._

Go away - I'm not talking to you right now.

_Ha. Very funny. _

Shut up. Go away. It's your fault that I'm in the hole with Kate - if you make it worse, I'll kill you.

_I'm a voice. You can't kill me. _

Wanna bet?

_Focus, here - someone's trying to talk to you._ _Er, about you._

I zoned back in time to hear, "-don't like your man leadin' the way. Especially from what I've heard about her."

Oh, yeah - I was kinda leadin' the way. I TOTALLY didn't mean to do it, but when you're walking with the army, they walk real slow, and I'm one of those people who walks kinda fast, so there ya go. Johann was supposed to be leading everyone (because if a monster popped out, he'd be able to float back to a containment suit - not like me, who'd curse up a storm and bleed to death).

Once I crested the hill, I had to stop to take in the sites. It was a large building made out of stone - square, with a skinny doorway and lots of stairs. It looked weird, but oh well - to each his own, as they say.

I continued my trek to the building, my feet crunching the snow. I've said that I can't stand snow, right? And all this snow was discerning. What I would give for a forest or a thunderstorm right now . . . .

But anyway, as I was walking, I had to take a look around. I could see some sort of wall that surrounded the place, but it was camoflauged so you couldn't really see it that well.

I stopped at the foot of the stairs and waited for everyone else to show up. Damn these people are slow . . . .

Johann came first, ahead of everyone else. "Wassup, Johann?" I asked conversationally. "Beautiful day for a rescue, eh?"

"Yes, I think it shall be wonderful to get Elizabeth back," he replied. "I saw the altercation on the plane - you are alright, yes?"

"Oh, psh, yeah," I scoffed. "It's all cool - it was just a case of proofing myself to the voice in my head, that's all."

I could tell that I just totally confused the hell out of Johann, but he didn't push for details. Hmm . . . does HE have a voice in his head too? Huh . . . I should ask him about that sometime . . . .

Finally everyone was crowded at the bottom of the stairs. Don't know why no one wanted to stand on the stairs - they were haunted? had cooties? These people needed to grow a pair already. Jeez, they were the freakin' ARMY for Crissakes!

"So, who goes first?" someone from the crowd called out.

There was a few murmurs through the crowd as they tried to decide who would go first.

"Someone want me to go knock?" I whispered loudly, and I turned around. "I bet I can get them to come out."

"There will be no need, my child - I am already here."

I flipped back around to see some short guy in an orange robe and sandals. SANDALS. IN THE SNOW. It better be damned warm in there.

"Whoa - he wasn't there a minute ago," Kate said from behind me.

"Yeah, well, if he's here ahead of us, then he can't be a friend, can he?" one of the army guys replied tartly. "C'mon." he motioned for the guys behind him to follow him up the stairs.

The guy in front of us put up his hand.

The leader-guy copied the move and ordered people to halt - like they were playing a macabre game of Simon Says. When we looked back to the guy in orange, he was smiling.

"You came to see Miss Sherman," he said cordially, "And you will. But not all of you."

He pointed to Abe. "You."

He pointed to Kate. "And you."

"Aaaaaaaand . . . ." he trailed off, scanning the crowd, until his eyes finally locked onto mine. "You."

He was pointing at the guy next to me.

"_**WHAT?!?!**_" me and Johann shouted at the same time.

I climbed up the stairs, trying to get to that guy. "OH **HELL** NO!" I shouted. "I'M GONNA GO IN THERE AND YOU CAN'T STOP ME! DON'T THINK YOU CAN, YOU BASTARD!"

"Jink!" Abe shouted at me. "Get over here!"

I walked over to where he was standing, anger clear in my walking - more like stomping. "This guy can't stop me from seeing Liz!" I hissed.

"Look, this is an in-and-out rescue mission," he said sternly, "And it seems that Gilfryd wants to talk instead of fight."

"Who the fuck is Gilfryd?" I asked angrily.

"The guy who kidnaped Liz," he said patiently. Man, I gotta pay better attention next time something like this happens . . . .

"But we need some of our people here - not just these power-mad Army cadets," Abe continued. He, Kate, and some other guy who's name I didn't know followed the robed guy up the stairs. Great . . . . just great. I hate that guy.

I walked through the crowd to seek out Greg. I had an idea, and I needed his help. Insert evil laughter here.

I found him near the back, with a few of our other guys.

"Greg, you gotta help me sneak in there."

* * *

No one saw me go in. Hah - eat shit, losers! I'm so ninja!

One I went through the doorway, I found that I was at the mouth og the maze. Great . . . . just great. But the walls were rough, and I could easily climb them.

I cheated - I climbed the walls and found my path quite easily. I had to stifle a giggle. This was _sooooo_ easy.

Once I was out of the maze, all I had to do was follow the sidewalk up to the shrine-like palace thing. Easy-peasy.

Wow . . . . I'm in heaven. That's the only explanation. There were ornate buildings everywhere, and it was _warm_. Shangra La, possibly? Oh well - all I knew was that Liz was in here somewhere, and I was gettin' her out one way or another.

I found Kate, Abe, and that one guy with some _other_ guy in a red robe and some wacky hat that was two feet high if it was an inch.

And Liz was there.

"LIZ!" I shouted happily, and ran towards her. She was, like, _floating_ in the air, and was wearing some toga sheet, but it was Liz all the same.

Heh . . . if I could describe everyone (minus Liz's) look in a simple way, it wouild look like this: 0.o

"Jink, what the hell are you doing?!?!?" Kate said loudly.

I wasn't paying attention - Liz was all I could really focus on. "Hey, Liz!" I said joyously. "How you livin'?"

Well, Liz wasn't really in the mood to talk, so I turned my attention to the guy in the red robe. "What'd you do to her, you bastard?" I asked, a smile gracing my face. I was such a cute wee li'l devil.

"What is this?" the guy snapped. "Who is this small child who speaks to me in such a way?"

"I'm the girl who's going to put you into cardiac arrest if you don't tell me how to fix my friend," I replied, still smiling.

A hand grabbed my shoulder and dragged me back. I looked up to see Abe's face twisted with anger.

"You were told to stay outside," he said quietly, anger making each word sting.

"I couldn't do it," I said simply. "Don't ask me to do something I can't do."

"You need to leave," he ordered. "_Now_."

"_NO_," I snapped. "I'm gonna get Liz _outta_ here!"

I walked up to the guy and held out my closed hand. "Right now," I said, deathly quiet and no longer smiling, "I could produce a shock big enough to stop your heart. Or one that's a tad smaller and aimed differently, and it could paralyze your nervous system. But I'm going to kill you in _some way_ if you can't help me fix my friend."

He did nothing but smile.

I let my hand spark as a warning. "Last chance," I sighed.

"Your friend is going to save the world," he said finally. "Why should I let her go with you?"

I sent him a paralyzing shock, watching as he fell to the floor with a thud. "_That's_ why," I said with finality.

"JINK!" Abe shouted at me, and I was bodychecked to the side. I winced as my already sore head cracked on the floor.

"Abe!" I growled, "What the hell! This man _kidnapped Liz._What the sno-cones?"

"_I can't believe you just did that!"_ he snapped at me, holding my arms to the side so I couldn't move. "_You just jeopardized the whole mission!_"

"No, I didn't," I replied calmly. "It's all cool."

The guy was back up, dusting himself off. I started to struggle, trying to force myself out of Abe's restraining arms.

"No way _that fucker can __**still **__**MOVE!!"**_ I growled, my voice getting louder with each word.

Abe was _really really_ strong. Seriously, I don't think I could ever over-power him.

But then . . . . well, _it_ happened again. I felt like someone just took over my body, and I was just a face who had to watch and get blamed.

I shocked him. Like, _really_ shocked him, until he loosened his arms and I was able to get up. I walked back over to red-robe guy, and I grabbed his face in my hands - which was no small feat, since he was a good two feet taller than me,

I sent waves of electricity through his skull until I could smell the cooking meat of his skin. He didn't scream - I didn't expect him to. What I expected was for him to stay dead.

Here is where I would've added a witty comment or something, but whatever was walking in my skin didn't feel the need to. So I walked over to Liz, and i was probably going to pick her up or try to wake her up or something, until a bullet knocked me off my feet.

I let out an "OOF" as I hit the floor . . . again. After that . . . everything went dark

* * *

**Part III: One Word: SHIT**

When I woke up, I didn't hurt - not like the last time I woke up with a bullet wound.

But what I did notice was my new outfit - a pair of baggy white pajama pants . . . . and a strait jacket.

It took me a moment to sit up and take in my new surroundings: metal walls, a metal cot, a steel reinforced door, a small toilet in the corner . . . .

Oh my God . . . . .

I'm in the Vault.

* * *

**Okay guys, I'm working on the next chapter. FEEL THE STING OF MY CLIFFHANGER. R+R if you ever want to see Jink alive!**

**~Izzy**


	48. Freak On A Leash

**Hey guys! New chap!  
**

* * *

I couldn't believe it . . . . . the _Vault_? Was I really _that bad?_ I mean, yeah, sure, I think I killed a guy . . . . maybe more . . . . and I shocked Abe . . . . _shit_.

Shitcrap . . . . I'm super screwed, now.

I tried to get up off of the floor, but all I succeeded in doing was falling and rolling on the floor. Talk about embarrassing.

I was able to sit up after some fanagaling, and I went to work gnawing on the shoulders of the straitjacket. Damn, these things were thick . . . Like, by the time I was done nomming through it enough to tear the rest free, I think I might've shaken a few teeth loose.

I managed to pull the thing off, finally. As I stood to stretch out my arms, I noticed something - my nails were cut short. Like, to the skin short. Further inspection revealed the same treatment to my toenails. Ewww . . . . whoever had to clip my toenails better be getting paid pretty good.

With a sigh, I ran hand through my hair.

Wait . . . . Hold the phone . . . .

I was missing about a _foot_ of hair. Like, all I had was a few inches of shag, and then POOF it was gone.

No . . . flippin' . . . way. My hair was one of the few things that I loved about myself, and _those mother-fuckers cut it off. _Those _bastards_.

I sat down on the metal cot and put my head in my hands. Hot damn, this sucked. How am I going to live like this? I'm in the fucking Vault and there's nothing I can do about it.

_Well, it's your own fault. YOU'RE the one that went all psycho-nuts on people._

"Shut up. Just _shut_ the _hell_ up."

_You're all alone and talking to yourself. Thanks the gods that they don't have a camera in here. Oh, wait, they DO!_

"What?"

_Yeah, guy, that cameras on you 24/7. They can catch every minute of you talking to yourself._

I looked up in the corner of the ceiling. A small black box with a reflective lense stared back at me.

Great. Fan-fucking-tastic.

Within the next few seconds, one of the nurses from the infirmary came into the room wheeling a cart. Baby-faced blonde - I knew this kid. He was new, and nearly fainted when he treated me for those slices a while back. A hemaphobic nurse - good God, now I've seen everything.

He pulled a foil-covered plate off of the cart and unleashed the foil. Some half-baked chicken, some limp green beans, and pudding that looked like it's seen the rough end of three days in a microwave.

No, I'm what you call a "picky" eater. I liked my meat fried, my veggies crisp, and my chocolate pudding . . . . well, not looking like the male nurse just crapped it onto my tray.

"Dude, I ain't eatin' this," I said. "No flippin' way."

"Mr. Manning wants you to eat this," he said plaintively. "And . . . . these." He reached to the cart and held out a cupful of candy-colored tablets. Meds.

"I ain't takin' those either, Junior," I sighed. "Too bad. So sad. Cry me a river."

He flinched from me as I threatened to hit him. He plunked the food tray back on the cart, and stalked out of the room.

"AND BRING BACK SOME FRIED CHICKEN!" I shouted after him as the door slammed shut.

I turned around so my back was facing the door so I could lay down. Mistake number one.

I lay down, putting my arms behind my head, and closed my eyes. Mistake number two.

It took about five seconds of relaxing for three guards (armed with guns) and two nurses (armed with needles) to burst into my room.

I didn't even have the time to panic right before I had three burly guys in SWAT suits holding me down while the nurses jammed needles in my arms.

"NNNOOOOOO!" I screamed, trying to thrash, " _BAD_ NURSES! I AM _NOT_ YOUR FUCKING PINCUSHION!!!"

Well, apparently, _they_ didn't give a fuck, because they jammed me with a few more needles before fleeing the room and leaving the SWAT guys to defend themselves. _They_ high-tailed it out of there faster than a cat at a dog show (cliche alert!).

As the door slammed shut, I lay on the floor and stared at the ceiling. This feeling I was feeling . . . like, an ache in my chest . . . . I didn't know how to describe it. It left me exponentially sad, and . . . and . . . _used_. _That_ was the feeling. I felt like I was just . . . . used. Like some cheap-ass hooker. "Oh, yes, here's five dollars for a fuck, now get outta here."

How can anyone ever live with a feeling like this?

_You seem to be managing quite well_.

Bitch please.

_Look at yourself. You're on the floor in a cell with clipped hair and no nails to speak of. Girl, you gotta reach _up_ to touch rock bottom._

. . . . . . . shut up.

I jumped up from the floor and banged on the door. "HEY!" I shouted, hearing my own voice reverberate on the walls. "HEY!! WHAT THE HELL DID YOU PUMP INTO ME, YOU BASTARDS!?!? _TELL ME WHAT YOU DID TO ME!!!!"_

I am fully aware that half of my current condition is my fault, but not ALL of it, thank you. I don't know what they did with all those needles - for all _I_ know, they may have pulled something out when they put something in.

I screamed some more, until finally my screams were wordless animalistic noises that richocheted off the hallways. As I screamed, I pounded on the door until my skin split and I was making weird _splat _with each beat of my hands.

Long after my throat was hoarse and my hands were throbbing, I finally stopped. I stumbled over to my cot, where I curled into a ball and pretended to fall asleep.

* * *

Days blurred. I stopped counting after three. Partly because I was lazy, and partly because I lost count after three. Minutes seemed like hours, and days seemed like minutes.

No one came to visit me - well, except for nurses with more needles and pills and guards to protect them, but no one to visit _me_.

I was so alone.

I had _nothing_ but the clothes on my back.

What I would have given to have music again. What I would have given to have _anything_ again.

Damn, I'd shoot someone for a _hug_.

* * *

After days of . . . . nothing, I decided to do something.

I had a bone to pick with Elektra.

It took me longer to meditate to the "Happy Place" than it usually did. Was I more distracted than normal? Lack of sleep? Who the fuck knew.

When I finally got there, I found that I was actually in the same clothes. Huh, kinda weird.

I wandered the meadow for a while, shouting "HELLLOOOOOOOOOOO?" Finally, after wandering for a while, I turned around to head home.

Elektra was behind me, giving me the stare of death. "What have you _done_?" she hissed at me.

"What do you mean?" I asked slowly.

"_They all think you're insane!"_ she shouted, making me take a step back. "_And now you've been locked up!"_

"It's not my fault!" I shouted back. "_THEY'RE the ones who locked me up!"_

"Ah, but who started acting out and getting unwanted attention?" she snapped at me. Her face dropped, and she sighed heavily. "Maybe . . . maybe I thought too much of you, Jink. Held you to too high esteem."

"No!" I said loudly. "It's not that! Don't _say_ that!"

She shook her head sadly, and suddenly I was back in my cell.

With a growl, I threw myself at the wall, pounding on it again. My hands were barely healed, and it took one hit to make them split open again.

It took about three seconds for them to send someone into my cell with a tranq dart. _That_ took about forty seconds to work its magic.

You know, I'm somewhat offended that these guys are putting me down like an animal. I'm not a bad girl. I just hurt a few people, that's all. And I didn't even mean that.

Why can't someone give me a break _and get these damn needles out of my aaaaaarrrm . . . ._

* * *

I sat up from my spot on the floor to see Roger sitting on my cot.

"Hey Roger," I greeted him. "How goes it?"

"You know they're all worried about you, right?" he asked me. "Everyone - Manning, Kate, Liz, Greg, even _Ben's_ worried about you."

"Dude, _I'm_ worried about me," I scoffed. "It's one of those things people are _supposed_ to do when things like this happen."

"But not like this," he stressed. "You don't know what being here _does_ to these people. They all love you, you know."

"_Don't you think I know that!"_ I hissed, getting up to pace. "I _know_ that I'm a horrible person for doing this. I _know_ everyone's probably worried _sick_ about me. _I don't need you reminding me!_" The lights out in the hallway began to flicker worse than I've ever seen.

He looked like he was about to say something else, but then he just sighed. "I didn't want to throw you on a guilt trip."

"I've been throwing _myself_ on a guilt trip," I snapped. A light in the hall blew. "Why shouldn't everyone _else_ get a shot?"

"You shouldn't feel guilty about something you have no control over," he said.

"Too late," I growled, crouching down to rest on my haunches. "Guilty, angry, depressed."

The door opened, and in a fit of panic, I jumped up and ran into the corner. These guys wouldn't get the jump on me _this_ time. But it wasn't the nurses.

It was Kate.

_Oh. My. God. Another human being. _Sure, she was covered in broken glass, but it was her all the same.

"_KATE!"_ I shrieked, and in a fit of joy I jumped up and totally glomped her. She wasn't prepared for me, and she nearly fell over.

"Hey, Jink," she said warmly. "How's it going? Haven't seen ya for a while."

"Oh, you know," I shrugged, still not letting go of her, "Just chillaxin' in the dark, hallucinating, talking to Roger . . . ."

"Roger?" she asked.

"Yeah," I pointed to the cot. "He's right there."

"Jink . . ." she said slowly, "He's not there."

I looked over to Roger, and finally let go of Kate. "Roger, tell her you're here," I told him.

"I don't know if she can see me," he shrugged.

"Jink, he's not here," she persisted. "Maybe I should get a nurse in here . . ."

"NO!" I shouted. "ROGER, TELL HER YOU'RE HERE! YOU ARE _HERE!_ _TELL_ HER!"

Kate was gone, replaced by two burly guys and a nurse armed with another needle.

"TELL HER!" I kept shouting, "_TELL HER! ROGER, TELL HER YOU'RE HERE, DAMMIT!__** TELL HER YOU'RE HERE!**_"

The guards finally got me pinned down long enough for the nurse to stick me with a needle, and then the world got . . . fuzzy. Really, really fuzzy.

Voices floated in from behind the door as I finally sank into the dark curtain.

"_Don't you think that this is wrong? That you've gone too far? She's a child, for Crissakes!"_

"_Kate, we know it's too far if she starts to cry. _That_ is when it's gone too far."_

* * *

I curled into the corner, face set as an impasse. This was going too far.

I didn't hassle the nurses anymore. They kept feeding me via crazy injections. Even if I wanted to, my body felt that any food consumed who just be rejected.

Was my body trying to unconsciously commit suicide? That'd be a change of pace . . .

I was drawn out of my comatose state by pounding feet and hissing . . . really LOUD hissing . . . I knew that sound.

"GREG!" I shouted hoarsely and jumped up to run to the door. I stumbled, but caught myself on the door. "Dude, I've missed y-,"

I stopped in my tracks.

Greg was there, but he was fighting off some guards . . . as they tried to shove him into the cell next to mine.

I fucking _snapped_.

With an inhuman roar of anger, I began to pound on the door. I was starting to lose the little control over my powers. I was sparking _bad_. With a final shove, the door gave just a little bit. One of the guards noticed what I was doing, and moved to block the door.

I blew the door of its hinges. Sorry, guard.

I whirled on the guards, foregoing my powers for fists and feet. "_NONONONONONONO!"_ I shouted. "_NOOOOOOOOOO!"_

One of the guards grabbed me around my middle and lifted me up off the floor. I screamed again, a wordless scream that would have sounded more at home coming from an animal than from me.

The guard held me so I couldn't flail with my arms as the others finished shoving Greg into the cell and locking the door. Then they turned their attention to me.

The held the door open as I was thrown back into my cell. I knew it was going to be mere seconds before they sent in someone with some sedative or something like that. But I didn't care.

I crawled up to the wall that separated me and Greg, leaning against it. "Not you, too," I whimpered. "_Not you too."_

Another hiss, but this was nothing to worry about – just the metal melting from my tears.

* * *

***sad face* Horrible ending, I know. And it's not even as long as the last one . . . .**

**Anyway, songs for his chap:**

**FREAK ON A LEASH by Korn**

**ANIMAL I HAVE BECOME by Three Days Grace**

**NUMB by Linkin Park (especially for that last scene . . .)**

**Big hugs for all my regular reviewers, and to Gyrogia and Zipper for pre-reading it and telling me how bad I sucked XD**

**~Izzy . . . who's in red pajama pants.  
**


	49. Sugar, We're Going Down

**Alright, sorry if this is REALLY short, and I hate to tell you this: THE END IS NEAR. Seriously, people, Jink's story is about to end. But what about a sequel . . . XD? **

**Okay, well, just read the chapter - I'll see ya at the end!**

* * *

Okayokayokay . . . I can fix this. I can make things better. Can't I? I totally can. Right? Dammit, Jink, stop doubting yourself and figure this out already!

I tapped on the wall. "Greg?" I called out. "Can you hear me?"

No answer. Of course - he can't talk. I am such a dunce.

"Greg," I tried again. "If you can hear me, tap twice on the wall."

Nothing. I was about to give up when-

_Thump. Thump. _

"Oh thank God," I breathed. "Okay, once for yes and twice for no, eh? Are you okay?"

_Thump_.

"Dude, what happened?" Seconds of deliberation. "Okay, that's not a yes-or-no question. Um . . . Okay. Did you just suddenly turn all wacky too?"

_Thump. Thump_.

"Whoa . . ." A lightbulb burst in my head. "Dude, are you _faking_?"

_Thump._

"Man, I'd totally glomp you for that," I laughed. "Okay . . . so we gotta bust outta here." I struggled to get up, but I was just so . . . weak. Blame the amount of pills I've been forced to nom.

"Okay, man, we . . ." I trailed off, "W-we gotta bust outta here. I don't know when, I don't know how, but we're gonna do it. Sounds cool?"

_Thump_.

"If I signal to ya, do you think you can get out by yourself?"

_Thump. Thump._

"They sedated you too? Don't worry," I sighed, "I can get you out . . ."

I lay down against the wall, keeping an eye on the door. "We'll be free to go where we want to go. Free . . . to be . . . you and me . . ."

The door opened, and I watched it with a level face. I was beyond anger and hurt now. Now, well, I call it the Danger Zone. No one knows what happens in the Danger Zone. Last time I was _this_mad, I think I killed someone. But I'm not sure - that was, like, five years ago. When someone stepped on Jareth . . .

And who was standing in the doorway? Not Abe. Not Kate. Not Liz. Not even Daimio, so no points awarded this round.

It was the man who claimed to be my father.

_Dude, what the fuck? I thought we got rid of him, like, eight chapters ago!_

Okay, this is only fit for a symbol: 0.o

_Uh, never mind - didn't mean to break the fourth wall there . . ._

Okay, back to reality . . .

"You gotta be shittin' me," I said slowly, getting up off the floor. "No fucking way."

"Young lady, watch the language," he snapped.

"Oh crap," I sighed with frustration, letting my head bang against the wall.

"Ashley, I can't believe what kind of mess you've gotten into this time," he said with amazement. "You're in a _cell_, for crying out loud!"

I said nothing; an idea was hatching from my father's sudden appearance.

"Do you have any idea how bad this looks?" he snapped at me. He was pacing now. Perfect. "I don't know how I'm even going to _begin_ to explain this to people."

I followed behind him for a second, and just as he was about to turn, I grabbed him in a half nelson and held a finger to his head.

"You move," I breathed, "You die."

I walked him to the door (which he didn't even bother to _close_ - just _how_ am I related to this guy?), kicking it open.

"ALRIGHT, NOBODY MOVE!" I shouted. The guards that were standing around jawing were suddenly at attention, guns trained on my face.

"You try to stop me," I said loudly, "He gets a million volts to the brain." I walked him over to the cell door next to me, guns still trained on me, and tapped on the door. "Greg!" I called, "We;re bustin' out! Watch yourself!"

I burst down his door, and I look back at the guards as I wait for Greg to climb out.

"What are you gonna do?" a guard asks.

"What's in your hand?" another calls out.

"IT'S A DE-VEGANIZING RAY, BITCHES!" I crow, laughing hysterically. With a last glance to check that Greg was out of his room, I threw my hostage (I'll never refer to him as my father, sorry) to the ground and took off like a shot.

I'm not the fastest, but I'm not the slowest. I was fast enough to get out of range of the dart guns, and I could hear Greg running behind me. I could hear the gunshots being fired, and I could hear my own heart beating.

I hooked a hairpin turn to the right, and just like I thought, there was an emergency exit. No hesitation; I burst through it like a man on fire. The door didn't have time to shut before Greg burst through it.

The door alarm pierced the air. But I;d be long gone before they could get to the door.

I beat a path to the woods, dodging trees left and right. I stopped in a small clearing, doubling over to try and catch my breath. After about a minute of wheezing and coughing (days in a cell will REALLY get you out of shape) I started smiling.

"We made it," I laughed, saying it over and over again. The taste of those words were the sweetest thing I;ve ever tasted - and the best thing I'll ever taste.

. . . . oh Goddess, I'm talking about how sweet words are. I'm definitely insane. I have to be.

I turned around to face Greg, and I was quite surprised.

Greg usually walked upright, and always had a handful of notecards on hand. Now, he was on all six, and he just had this wild air about him. His antenna were moving around in jittery movements, like . . . . like . . .

"Oh my God," I breathed, "You _weren't_ faking."

One of his arms jerked a little bit, and he reached out. Looking around, I found a stick and handed it to him. He scurried over to a dirt patch and began to write.

_You need to get a grip on yourself,_ he wrote in jerky and crooked letters.

"What do you mean?" I asked worriedly.

He underlined his words with a crooked line.

"I don't know how!" I shouted.

He kept tapping his words, circling them.

_You heard the man - get a grip_.

"SHUT UP!" I shouted, falling to my knees and grasping my head. "SHUT UP! NO ONE CARES WHAT YOU HAVE TO SAY!"

_Uh huh. That why you looked out the window. That's why you cut yourself. **That's** why you tried to commit suicide. **Because what I have to say doesn't matter.**_

I doubled over so my head was touching the ground. Thunder was rumbling in the sky, and the beginnings of rain splattered on my head.

_Yes, pretend I'm not here. **That's** worked so well for you, hasn't it? Girl, you got problems. Why would I want to help you? Think about it._

I bolted up and howled to the sky.

_**Think about it.**_

I howled again, louder this time. Greg was running now. Where to?

_**Think about it, dammit!**_

A bolt of lightning struck me. It didn't hurt, but it wasn't exactly pleasant, either - not like normal lightning. It was like my nerves were being tickled right under my skin, making me jump. I howled one last time, and then it just _clicked_.

I fell to the ground, smoking. I smelled like cooking bacon, but there wasn't a scratch on me. I had it. I _had_ it.

_Atta girl._

I flipped over on my back to watch the sky. As another volt lit up the sky, I closed my eyes.

* * *

**OMG A SOMEWHAT CLIFFHANGER! Okay, this is the penultimate chapter - second to last. Sorry, folks, but if you want a sequal, review. AND THANKS FOR ALL THE WONDERFUL REVIEWS LAST CHAPTER! I think that was some sort of record there . . .**

**Okay, today's title comes from the song by Fall Out Boy - you know the one.**

**The De-Veganizing Ray came from Scott Pilgrim. Learn it, live it, love it.**

**~Izzy . . . QUEEN OF ALL PANTS! *evil laughter***


	50. Electricity: A Reprise

**OMG THE LAST CHAPTER!**

* * *

__

Three months later

_The screen flashes on, and you see the girl sitting in a chair. She's wearing a black tank top and jeans. She's wearing a black skull cap, tufts of dark brown hair poking out in random directions. Her face seems tired but bright._

"Hey guys. This is Jink's log, star date May . . something . . . I never had a head for dates."

_The girl shrugs._

"It's been officially three months from my daring escape of the Vault. Since then, I've been in therapy. Like, therapy on steroids. They brought back in Professor MacBride. We've talked about everything, bar none. It was her idea to start the video log."

_She sighs, and looks over to the wall above the screen._

"Yeah, she told me to talk about . . . about what happened that night."

_She reaches up and pulls her hat off. Short hair is poking out in all directions, giving her a look like a small porcupine is living on her head. Wringing the cap in her hands, she focuses on the floor._

"It's like I had some sort of epiphany. Ever since Roger died, I've changed. In a way that wasn't noticeable to anyone. I lost faith in myself. _That_'s where the voice came from."

_She looks back to the camera._

"It was _me_ that was the voice, pointing out my every flaw, my every weakness. Before Roger's death, and my suicide, I _knew_ that I was different. but after . . . after, some part of my consciousness went bad and started saying all this crap about me."

_She smiles wryly, and looks back at her hands._

"It was right. Half that stuff that it said was right. And me being me, I didn't want to believe ut because I didn't know where this voice was coming from. But now that I know, well, it don't talk anymore."

_She leans in closer to the screen._

"And I haven't heard it once since that night."

_She leans back in her chair._

"Well, it may have been the meds. They brought in an actual doctor who diagnosed me with acute schizophrenia. I got the right dosage, and after a while, I started to get better. I stopped hallucinating, I stopped my little breaks of not eating and then eating like a horse, I even stopped wiggin' out on plans over the ocean. I'm still my wonderful self, but I'm, like, Jink 2.0."

_She laughs at her small joke._

"Also, there's been mucho changes. They brought in a social worker, and thanks to her, I have a meal plan instead of eating whatever's in the fridge. I can't even work more than twenty hours a week until I turn eighteen. I even hear she's trying to pull strings so I can go to school and get my diploma."

_She runs a hand through her short hair, making it stand up even more._

"At least I'm open about it. I'm still pissed about my hair, but I think I like it short like this. Doesn't get in the way as much, at least."

_She reaches off screen to grab something. She brings it back into view and bring it up to take a drink out of it: caffeine-free Dr. Pepper. She finishes and grimaces._

"Thanks to my _wonderful_ social worker, I gotta drink _this_ crap now."

_She shows the can to the screen._

"But I manage. I sneak the real stuff when I can, but I'm turning to coffee - with lots of cream and sugar and vanilla. It's the same kick, but coffee's an acquired taste."

_She sighs again, setting the can down with a dull thunk. She reclines in the chair, looking up at the walls._

"I really don't know what else to say here. Greg's okay - better than he was, at least. Turns out he _wasn't_faking all that much back at the Vault. Since he's a giant roach and all, we can't really give him meds, but I think I can coax him out of it with some frappacinos and stuff."

_She sighs again, and places her hat back on her head. _

"Liz is back. They got her okay. Abe's forgiven me over shocking him way back when. But the thing is, I haven't forgiven myself. It's one of those things I'm workin' on, though. I'm trying."

_She rocks back and forth in the chair._ _She smiles wryly._

"As for Manning . . . well, let's just say we're working on forgiving him. And as for Daimio . . . it's just the same as ever. He still acts like a dick about ninety percent of the time, and like a gentleman the other ten. He needs to get his story straight before I hit him."

_She spins once in her chair._

"You know, I fell like a new person, now. And this new person is _not_ afraid to keep on living, and _not_ afraid to walk this world alone. And I will never be afraid again. I will keep on fighting to the end. I can walk on water, I can _fly_. I will keep on flying 'til I die."

_She giggles._

"Sorry - that's too many music quotes in one place. Well peeps, this is the end. Good-bye, farewell. Happy days, people. This is Jink, No Last Name, signing off."

_You see her click a button, and the screen goes black._

**Okay, first order of business: Those two song quotes came from I CAN WALK ON WATER, I CAN FLY by Basshunter and FAMOUS LAST WORDS by MCR, which were the two main songs for this one. **

**Second of all, thanks to all my wonderful readers and reviewers. I love you all - seriously, you don't know how much you all mean to me. Watch for a sequel. **

**Third, thanks especially to Zipper for letting me use Greg, and another big thanks to Artemis K. Arrow for being my semi-beta for most of the chapters. *glomps* to you both.**

**Finally, SOMEONE NEEDS TO GET THIS DAMN SONG OUT OF MY HEAD. Kira kept playing FIREFLIES by Owl City and it got stuck in my head and it pulled overtime for this chapter. SO BLAME HER.**

**Hopefully not for the last time, Izzy, Queen of the Damned Pants *more evil laughter***


	51. EXTRA

"Greg, come out! Please?"

A card pushed in my direction: _No._

"Please?"

_No._

"Dude, please?"

_No._

"Come _on_, Greg . . . I got sugar!"

_NO._

"For _Crissakes_," I groaned and got up off the floor. I sighed, and I got back down on the floor.

"Greg, you can't hide under the bed all day. Can you _please_ come out?"

Greg pushed another card to me: _No. Not yet._

"Gree-eeeg!" I groaned. "Fine. You _wanna_ hide under the bed all day? Fine." I sat up, climbed onto his bed, and folded my arms. "I'm not leavin' until _you_ leave."

He pushed another card out, and I got on my stomach to peer over the edge of the bed.

_Prepare to get comfortable, then._

"Are _all_ men stubborn?" I growled.

_Just don't eat pizza in my bed._

I sighed. Another beautiful day.

* * *

**Okay, this is was an extra thing Zipper told me about, and I didn't include it in the story, so HERE IT IS. Sorry if it bites - it was a quick thing in Newspaper. **

**~Izzy (who is trying to think of a sequel)**


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